Streetfire
by MissMoonlightdancer
Summary: Hotsuma lives on the street and has no idea that he's a Zweilt. His partner remembers him and looks for him.
1. Graffiti

**Sorry that I didn´t update in a long time now. I was busy with my stupid part-time job and other things. **

**First of all, this is only a try. Of course I´m still working on my other Uraboku fanfic, but this was an idea that didn´t let me go anymore. I don´t know if you´d like this idea, but I thought of an Uraboku from another start. **

**Here, Hotsuma lives on the street and doesn´t even have an idea of being a member of the Giou Clan. He doesn´t remember Shusei, but Shusei remembers him, but doesn´t know where he is or how to find him. **

**In case the readers like this idea, I guess I´ll continue it after finishing 'A Story about Best Friends'. If not, I´ll delete it.**

**Disclaimer: I don´t own Uragiri wa boku no namae wo shitteiru **

* * *

Sun sets.

It´s getting colder.

Darker.

The people on the streets in the shopping malls are starting to walk faster. They´re reaching into their pockets or handbags to assure themselves that their money is still there. Their movements get desperate.

They don´t know, but _they_ notice.

The people don´t even know what they´re afraid of. But they know _they_ are there. Somewhere in the alleys. Somewhere in Tokyo. Even right by their sides, they just don´t notice. They´re trying so hard to find _them _that they don´t notice _their_ hungry eyes right _next_ to them. In the shadow of a street lamp. Those staring eyes. The wiry legs. These skinny, skilled fingers, trained to take someone else´s money. _They_ only wait for the right moment.

To carefully slid their hands into pockets and handbags to find the treasure that lays in there. And after that, they run back into their hiding places in the darkness. Sometimes they can still even hear the sounds of the screaming people, who finally notice that their money is gone. And short after that, the shrill police sirens noise through Tokyo, alarming all the others who still wait in the darkness. And like little rats, they´re running. But they´re not afraid of being caught. They know Tokyo better than anyone else.

For them, it´s a joy being chased.

Their only feeling of being alive. Society doesn´t care about them anymore, but at least the police still does.

How ironic. The police, who are supposed to frighten and hunt _them_, are actually doing _them_ a favor. And there´s nothing they can do about it. _They_ know perfectly how to use people.

...

It´s a night like all the others. He sits between hills of garbage; paper, plastic and leftovers are piling up dangerously high, smelling like a bunch of sods. But he doesn´t care. This is the dirty mirror image of Tokyo. Dark, muddy alleys, which hide perfectly those, who were kicked out of society. The youth rubs a bit of dust from his nose. He wears dark clothes, black baggies and a dark blue sweater. Sure, he doesn´t want to be seen in the darkness, he rather wants to melt into it, becoming a part of it.

He looks skinny. He doesn´t eat much. Certainly not on purpose. On the street, food is rare. He moves a bit and the sound of a grumbling stomach echoes uncomfortable loud in that empty alley. But the sound is drowned out by a buzzing cell phone. He doesn´t look like he was about to answer the cell. But after a minute, he finally reaches into his pocket, pulling out an expensive looking cell. Doubtless he had got it without paying. He flips it open and answers in a very low and husky voice

"Yeah…?"

It seems like he doesn´t use his voice that often. Well, on the streets, someone to talk to is also rare.

"Where are you?" a familiar voice asks.

He rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"When are you coming? You know, today is _the_ day" the voice continues, without waiting for an answer.

"I know…"

"Then hurry up and move your fucking ass to the station, got it? The others are waiting already!"

"…Yeah…"

Then he hangs up and put his cell back into his pocket. After that, he again sits like a corpse, completely without action. It takes a few moments, until he moves again. He stands up and walks away, hands in his pockets, head downcast. He disappears into the darkness. Like always.

...

Maybe ten minutes later, even though time wasn´t important for him, he reaches the train station. This time, he carries a bag over his shoulder. He walks carefully and his old chucks make an odd noise on the ground, like they were still full of mud. And with every step, something inside his bag is hitting together, making a sound like little bells. He looks around and sees a group of maybe twelve youth in a distance of maybe hundred meters. They´re standing between old, discarded goods wagons. He notices a few glowing spots. Seems like a few of those youth were smoking. He approaches and soon, a few of them notice them.

"Finally you´re here" the voice from the cell says angrily.

"When you continue your damn yelling at me, you can do it alone" he snaps back and let his bag crush to the ground and he takes a place in the circle.

"Wanna have a cigarette, too?" someone asks.

"Sure" His mood gets better, when someone gives him the cigarette packet and a lighter. For a few seconds, his face can be seen.

He´s young. Blonde, slightly curly hair. Skin covered with dirt and dust. But his golden eyes glow sarcastically and provoking. He takes the cigarette between his lips and takes a deep pull. Slowly, his ironic grin appears on his face again.

"Glad you ´re helping out again, Renjou. Even though you´re not in the gang…" the guy next to him says.

"Why don´t you join already?" the one from the call asks him.

"I´m ok with the way it´s now…" Renjou answers, but a small smile or rather smirk plays around his lips.

The gang members are youth like him, a few older but most of them are the same age. They are not bad, but somehow, he detests the thought of joining the gang. He doesn´t like the rules they have. He rather lives on his own. But sometimes he joined their small events.

Like tonight.

A new train.

Completely white and inside it's a luxurious as a hotel. It's the fastest train in the area around Tokyo now. Tomorrow there is a large gala planned. The headmaster would be there. Some politicians, too. Rich people. But for a change, they are not interested in their money. They want to play a dirty trick on them. They want to make the train colorful. _Really_ colorful. And of course, Renjou was up to join them. Since it would be great fun.

...

After the last one has thrown his cigarette away, they start to collect all their aerosols. Count together, they have thirty. More than enough. Then they begin to cover their faces with scarves and shawls. Renjou wraps a dark kifaya scarf around his neck. A dark cap and then his hood. They almost look like a group of terrorists.

"Let´s go now" the eldest of the gang orders quietly. They nod and each one picks one or two sprays.

Maybe he has lost his conscience already a long time ago, at least he doesn´t care about the new train at all. They only have a few hours, so the graffiti doesn´t become as good as normally. Actually it looks terrible, and yet, there´s an ironic beauty behind it.

A message.

They are still there.

No, _here_.

Still in Tokyo.

Right in front of the police.

And yet, they never get caught.

...

Ok, actually, sometimes it happens that someone is caught. But often those are only youth who only got recently on the street and who still have no experience. Naturally there´s no way you can get them out of the police´ hands. All you can do is to watch even more, so there won´t happen the same thing to oneself.

Renjou is completely absorbed into his spraying, when he suddenly hears the sound of police sirens. A grin rushes over his face and he throws his aerosols into his bag. He wears hand gloves, so he wouldn´t hurt himself when he jumps down of the train and lands roughly on the ground.

"Fuck! Run, Renjou!" someone hisses.

He jumps up and runs. His legs are almost flying. He hears laughter a few meters next to him. He can´t help but laugh as well. Like rats they separate, always in groups of two or three. They all disappear in different direction in the darkness. Running through the alleys they know so well. Jumping over garbage and ceilings. His blood rushes through his body. He feels it pulsating through his veins.

He feels alive.

His skin is prickling with fear, excitement and joy.

This is the real life.

...

"_Well, what´re we going to do first when we´re there?"_

"_A mission? I don´t care!"_

"_Hotsuma, why the hell is your sword so large?" - "How would I know!"_

"_Oh, c´mon, I didn´t start!"_

"_How did you find me?"_

"_We´re friends, right?"_

_...  
_

He opens his eyes.

Again those memories.

Images from a past life.

He shakes his head, as if the memories were only a bunch of annoying mosquitoes and sits up. He has a large room only for himself. Not only a large room, but also a large bed, desk, bathroom- everything. He looks at his alarm. Time to get up and finish for school. As always, he goes to school without having breakfast. He never has appetite in the morning. He stands up from the soft mattress and goes over to the bathroom, washing himself and after that he dresses himself in his school uniform. He takes his school bag from the chair in front of his desk and leaves his room.

But when he was about to leave through the front door, without even greeting his cohabitants, someone calls him.

"Shusei! You should read this… and please say at least 'Good morning', ok...?"

Shusei sighs and turns around and walks back to the combined living and dining room. A young man with clothes like stolen from a carnival party stands at the long table, a newspaper spread in front of him. This catches his attention. He approaches and greets his cohabitants with a quick 'good morning' and a well trained smile, which unfortunately never really reaches his eyes.

"Read this article. Yesterday, this new train was sprayed with graffiti. No one was caught but the police believe that it was a gang of youth again. Street kids, you know already…"

Shusei doesn´t answer and only pulls the newspaper closer to read the article on the front page. His eyes of the color of dark ambers narrow slightly, while a bad feeling starts to curse through him.

"So…?" the man asks him with raised eyebrows.

Shusei is really well aware of his friends´ eyes on him and waits with his answer. Then he asks calmly "Tachibana, is there any sign that _he_ was one of the youth who did that?"

Tachibana shrugs. "Maybe he was. Who knows?"

"No one knows. Neither the police do nor do I. So please stop asking me".

Tachibana rolls his eyes. He turns around. He is in no mood for talking anymore.

He finally leaves the mansion behind. Only a few weeks until summer vacation. He looks up to the azure blue sky. The sun shines like it was participating in a competition. But somehow, he doesn´t feel warm at all. There is always that cold aura surrounding him. Never once letting warmth through.

...

When Renjou finally reaches his home, he is terrible tired and feels like falling asleep already on the stairs down to the basement where he is living. It´s the basement of an old warehouse which isn´t used anymore. It´s somewhere in a part of Tokyo where no one lives anymore. The high-risers here all look like anytime they´d break down. Of course in that area you can look long time for something like a store or something to eat at all. But he had decided to live here because the water line still works. And here he never gets disturbed.

Renjou takes his sweater, scarf and shoes off and walks over to the old basin. He turns the faucet and cold water runs into his hands. He roughly washes the dirt off his face and hands. Now he feels a bit refreshed and the fatigue overwhelms him anew. He walks over to his 'bed'. Actually it´s only an old mattress with a few blankets and an old pillow that smells after cats. But he can sleep in it and it´s definitely more comfortable than the old bus he had lived in the large wooden boxes behind and next to him his few things are laying. His clothes in a more or less nice condition, a flashlight, the rest of the money he had gotten from his last ramble through Tokyo´s shopping malls.

And a few things that remind him of his old home. Of times when he had still seen smiles on his parents´ faces.

Of times when he still had always gotten a warm meal for lunch.

Of times when he had still gone to school.

But those times had been a long time ago.

He has moved on.

Maybe in a bad direction.

But he doesn´t care.

Since no one else cares anymore.

...

"Shusei… what are you planning to do? Looking for him?" Murasame Touko, an inhabitant of his home, the Tasogarekan or Twilight Mansion, asks him after school, when they are walking home. She was a 2nd year, like him. She was nice, but he doesn´t want to talk about it. It wouldn´t change anything, anyway.

Yet he answers „I don´t know…"

"But this is insane! After all, he is still your p-" but the girl was cut off by a hand on her shoulder. Her one-year-younger brother Tsukumo shakes his head, but his face looks sad. Touko´s shoulders drop.

Shusei knows that they want to help him, but they can´t. He sighs. It is frustrating and maddening that he can´t do anything at all, no matter how much he wants it. But as long as he doesn´t know where he should start searching, it would be completely meaningless. Tokyo has a population of 8 483 050 people. How should he find him?

Where? And how long would it take?

And…

Would he believe him?

* * *

**So, I hope you enjoyed somehow^^**

**BTW: I promise, the next chapter of 'A Story about Best Friends' will be up in a few days!**

**Please review^^  
**


	2. Marihuana

**I know, I actually promised to update the next chap of my other Uraboku fic, but there came up a few difficulties, so I´m still checking it. And because of school I´ll be away for a few days, so I wanted to update before leaving, so I updated Streetfire instead.**

**And thanks for all your positive reviews^^ I didn´t expect the readers to be so interested in this kind of story.**

**So, this is the next chap. Please enjoy^^**

**Disclaimer: I don´t own Uragiri wa boku no namae wo shitteiru.  
**

* * *

It´s easy not to be seen in a large crowd.

Even if it´s bright and sunny outside or getting darker, like it is now. You only have to stay in movement the entire time. And you have to avoid the faces of the people. When you don´t look at them, they won´t look at you. You don´t even have to hide your face behind a scarf or with a cap. When you keep your eyes off the eyes of others and pretend to have an aim, they will just walk alongside with you without noticing you. They won´t waste a single gaze on when you know perfectly how to do it, it´s even easier to get those people´s money. You only have to focus on someone and the place where the wallet could be. Sometimes it´s also helpful to find out first, if the bag is open or not. After that, you only have to follow that person. And when you pass, just stretch your arm a bit and take the wallet out. Keep your eyes focused on something else, maybe the dog of a homeless person. Then you slightly pick up your pace and vanish into the next alley.

Sounds easy, right?

...

_It is easy. Almost so easy that it´s already laughable_, Renjou thinks and kicks a rock out of his way through an alley full of garbage containers. He has at least six foreign wallets in his bag. At one container he stops and takes the wallets out. He takes the cash, the rest he just throws into the garbage. The police would find them eventually.

It has been one and a half week since their trick with the train. It has been in a lot of newspapers and the politicians have made a great riot about those 'awful, violent, anarchic and impudent youths' who live on the street. 

_As if we would live like this on purpose… _

Actually it would have been funny, but unfortunately, one of the gang members had been caught on their escape through Tokyo in the night. He had had bad luck; a car had almost crashed into him. He had ended up in the hospital and after that of course in front of the juvenile court. And now, the gang wants revenge. How that will look like, he doesn´t know. He agreed to accompany them.

He has nothing to do anyway.

His stomach rumbles. After all, he can´t live without eating. Grimly, he looks up to the violet-red-orange sky. It seems strangely far away and the high-rises next to him seem to grow even higher, cornering him.

His breath gets a bit faster.

He doesn´t like being confined.

...

"_Shusei… you know that it´s simply impossible to find your partner. We don´t have a clue where he could be or where his relatives are right now. I´m sorry, Shusei, but I can´t change it" _

_"…" _

_"Well, have you… ever thought about moving on?" _

_"…?" _

_"Zweilt partners are supposed to fight together. They are supposed to complement each other. And… you know yourself that you´re better on the defensive then the offensive. And in the battles which will come, sooner or later, you´ll be in disadvantage against the Duras" _

_"So…you tell me to…" His lips hardly move while talking. Waves of painful feelings overwhelm him and his golden eyes get a darker shade. _

_"I don´t want to rush you, but you should think about it. And I guess, you know it yourself already. You need a new partner" _

_To hear the last part of that sentence he has been afraid of the most since he had realized that he has lost his partner, is like a harsh punch in the face. _

_"But… Kuroto, he…" _

_"Kuroto is a different case. Hatred and rage had made him stronger since his partner Oboro-kun had died, and he had always been strong on the offensive. You´re different" _

_"…" _

_"Well, that´s everything. Please think about it, Shusei" _

_"…Yeah…"_

_...  
_

He sits on the bench in front of a window in his room.

The window is open.

Always.

He never closes it.

Maybe it´s a bad habit, but it´s one of the few places, where he can almost feel the presence of his partner still lingering in the air. His lips form a sarcastic smirk.

_So it really is that easy to throw a Zweilt away…_

They´re not many anymore. There´re only a few left, who were there when this battle had begun. A lot have died in earlier battles. Of course it´s sad when a guardian dies, but it´s not like Zweilts can´t be replaced. There´re also people, who are talented in necromancy, like Kuroto´s new partner, Senshiro. But those people don´t have that certain 'Abilities of Gods', which actually make the Zweilts so special in the first case.

_But to finally realize how little we mean in this battle…_

His gaze wanders from the garden to the empty space before him. The green seat looks faded and slightly worn out. His partner used to sit there in the past. Together they have looked up to the stars and the night-blue sky and sometimes, the large silver shining moon above them. The timbre in those moments has always been calm and delightful at the same time, like clear sunrays breaking through the dark and cloudy sky after a long, rainy day.

But now, when he looks at the empty seat in front of him… His faked smirk disappears and a blank expression takes its place on his subtle features. A shudder creeps down his spine and he shivers slightly, coldness capturing him, even though it´s almost summer.

His seventeenth summer in this life.

Without _him_.

His seventeenth summer alone.

His seventeenth summer of waiting and hoping.

His _third_ summer since his return to the place where the two of them used to live together.

And his _first_ summer of knowing that the one who leads the lives of the Zweilts has finally given up on his partner.

...

While the gang members discuss heatedly how to approach their quite tenuous 'revenge', he only sits on the dusty ground, his back leaning against the wooden wall, and lights up his second joint. He wonders slightly frowning, why adults always make such a fuss about drugs. Ok, some really _are_ something like dangerous, but after one joint of marihuana, you´re not even high yet.

And when you look at those idiots sitting in the parliament, you could definitely think that they take one or two drugs before breakfast every day, too. Who else would have that stupid idea to make drugs illegal? Like that, even more people buy them illegally. The 'kick' is more tempting, then. And why should politicians care, anyway? They don´t want the people in this land to die because of the drugs, but they let all of the youths on the street die in dirty alleys, stomachs filled with leftovers and junkie food. Now, who´re the ones on drugs, now?

After taking a few pulls, he finally notices the effect of the joints. His heart starts to beat faster and his surrounding seems to spin, while squeaking, bright, colorful and funny spots move into his sight. A grin appears on his face, but it feels weird, as if he wasn´t used to smile anymore. His gaze is dazed and moves into the distance. He feels so light.

The gang members are finished with their discussion and one after another they light up their joints. Heavy mists settle in the room and in their woozy minds. They drift into illusions. Delusions. Dreams of foolish youths. For a short while, they will be happy. Swimming through the deepest ocean. Flying over the highest cloud.

But he already tastes the bitter smack of falling even deeper after his awakening.

...

Shusei turns around, when a knock on his door releases him out of his thoughts. "Yes?"

"It´s me, Yuki"

"Come in"

The door opens and the young boy steps in. He has blonde hair and the same golden eyes like all of them. He carries a tray full with food. Naturally. He forgot dinner again.

"Katsumi-kun told me to bring this to you. You missed dinner again"

"Thanks, Yuki"

"But you´ll eat a bit, yeah?"

Shusei lowers his gaze. He never has great appetite or the urge to join the dinners every evening. There´s nothing what could make it possibly more attractive to him. Of course, he likes Katsumi´s cooking. It´s just that he never enjoys eating at all.

The boy lays the tray down on the desk. But instead of leaving again, he steps further, approaching him on his bench in front of the window. As if faking interest, Shusei stands up.

"Is there something else?" he asks with a thin smile on his lips.

Yuki seems a bit uncomfortable, like doesn´t know how to handle the person before him. He can´t blame him, though. They never really talk to each other. It´s not like he doesn´t like Yuki. Yuki is Gods Light. And he, he is a Zweilt. One of his guardians.

He is _supposed _to like him.

In his blood and gene, it´s _foreseen_ to like him.

Love him.

Protect him.

The smaller boy looks up to him and the sadness in his eyes is almost reflecting his own condition inside. And of course, he immediately feels guilty to make him worry.

"…"

"Shusei… I-I know that I can´t help you. Takashiro told me about your missing partner and when there´s anything I can do…"

"Yuki, it´s all right. Don´t worry about me" he tries to calm the boy down.

"But... it´s simply unfair… that _he_ is…"

Shusei´s lips curl up to a half-hearted smirk. Why do all of his cohabitants want to hunt him down for that? As if they helped him by comforting him with empty words or confront him over and over again with the truth he had to face already a long time ago. He knows that they just want to show solicitousness and he´s actually thankful to them that they´re still not giving up on him and try, but in this case, he neither wants nor needs any help.

"Shusei…?"

"...Thanks that you thought of me, Yuki"

"Shusei…"

"I guess I´ll try a bit from the supper now…"

"Yeah…of course…"

Yuki doesn´t seem relieved or satisfied with this conversation at all, but leaves the room and closes the door quietly behind him. Shusei steps back and sits down on the bench like before. His eyes are focused on the door, where seconds earlier Yuki has vanished.

_It really is unfair…_

It has taken Takashiro Giou 15 years to find Gods light. Years full of searching and effort and trouble. Everything for the most important member of the Clan, Yuki. So why,_why_ for god's sake, would _anyone_, be it Takashiro or Tachibana or anyone else, search for a certain _Zweilt_ who got lost in the period between his death and his rebirth. Since a _Zweilt _can _easily_ be replaced like a broken tool. Why thinking of _Zweilts_ being special at all?

_How ridiculous…We´re the only fools in this story…and we don´t even notice…_

_...  
_

He stumbles against house walls and fells into the mud.

It feels incredibly hot beneath his clothes, so hot it feels like he was searing to ashes.

He ribbs his sweater open to get some air. He shivers uncontrolled, his eyes are seeing dark and bright spots, his sight is narrowed, and his ears feel over-sensitive. The noise of the cars far away seems unbearable loud. His skin burns and hurts with every movement more. He wishes he could escape into those colorful, funny, stupid delusions again. But he also knows that his condition right now is just the repercussion of the Marihuana.

He hates himself for being so idiotic to toke.

He disgusts himself for fleeing into those dreams every time reality gets too painful.

But still, he wouldn´t ever stop doing it.

...

It feels like an eternity in hell, when he finally reaches his 'home'. He falls down the stairs and for a few moments, it feels like their air is pressed out of his lungs and he sees yellow stars sparkling above falling, he has bitten down on his tongue. Now he also tastes the metallic, salty blood in his mouth and spits out.

He scuffles over to his 'bed' and the sweat on his back feels cold and yet, it´s so hot. He throws his sweater aside. His t-shirt feels moist and sticks to his feverish skin. He groans frustrated and runs a hand through his messy hair.

The heat is killing him. But he knows a way to escape it. He shakes his head, but his surrounding is only spinning more. His eyes wander around, searching for a certain tool. Finally he sees it. He grabs it and feels the cooling metal beneath his fingers. After that his breath gets slower, like readying for what he is about to do next. He rolls the sleeve of his t-shirt up and exposes a skinny upper arm. The muscles emerge clearly and his blue veins make a sick-looking contrast under the pale skin.

But still, there´re silver lines all over his arm.

Scars.

Old and new ones.

His breath is shallow now.

Preparing for the upcoming pain and the releasing feeling that comes along with it.

He holds the knife higher, touching his skin.

He closes his eyes.

The first cut.

...

The warm liquid flows down and colors his white skin red. His breath gets deeper, as if the air in that cave is suddenly fresh again. The pain is like a blanket of ice wrapped around him. His head feels numb now. Empty. Like his heart is.

He let the knife fall to the ground. There´s a dumb noise when it collides with the mattress. He opens his eyes again. His sight is has returned to normal. Only his arm hurts. This night feels endless to him.

Until his cell buzzes in his pocket. His right hand reaches unconsciously into his pocket and pulls the vibrating thing out. It sounds like a sick organ and pulsates like it. He looks onto the LCD and it takes him forever to understand what is written there. 

_Revenge: Mansion near the PHQ. Tomorrow. Ten o´clock

* * *

_

**To be continued...**

**So, I hope you liked it. **

**And I hope that after coming home, I´ll be able to finally update 'A story about best friends'. Please be patient until then, ok?**

**Please review^^  
**


	3. Wounds

**Here´s the next chap. Please enjoy^^ And please review^^**

**BTW: 1 598 966 yen are ca. 15000 euro (I didn´t look up how much it is in Dollar, sorry) **

**Disclaimer: I don´t own Uragiri wa boku no namae wo shitteiru  
**

* * *

In the living room in the Tasogarekan it´s quiet.

Even though the light is bright, it seems like with every passing second he stays there alone, it´s getting darker. In front of him on the living room table there lays his cell. The SIM card next to it. A few moments ago, almost every minute someone has called him or send him a message. And no matter how often he has told them that he wouldn´t come, they still won´t stop calling him.

On Monday he´d probably get an earful, but he doesn´t mind it, though. He is in no mood to go on some party or something. Unfortunately, even Touko has tried to convince him to accompany her, but he has refused. What should he do there, anyway? He hears someone step into the living room. He turns his gaze to the side and sees Touko in a short skirt, top, high-heels and a thin jacket.

"Are you sure you don´t want to come?" she asks again.

"I am"

She waits for a second, but then she walks over to him. With her high-heels, she´s almost as tall as he is. "But the party is for all the 2nd years. The people from your class are already calling _me_ to know why you don´t answer their calls anymore"

"…It´s your fault when you give them your cell number"

Touko rolls her eyes. What other answer should she expect from Shusei, anyway? He notices that she´s disappointed and his expression gets a little bit softer.

"Enjoy yourself, Touko" he says with a hint of a smile on his lips.

The girl frowns slightly, but then she nods and stands up.

And again, he´s left alone.

...

"This will we be fun" the guy next to him chuckles with insanity glowing in his eyes.

But in those reddish, glassy mirrors, Renjou notices an almost unbearable sadness.

Of course. That guy is the elder brother of the boy who has been caught.

His breath smells after Marihuana and parts of his sweater seem like soaked with blood. The only way to handle that sadness. It´s like trying to erase a pain with an even bigger one.

The gang leader looks at the guy for a few seconds and for a short moment, something like worry flushes over his face. Then it becomes emotionless like always, even the grin is missing. This time, it´s not meant to be funny or exciting. This is revenge. "In that mansion lives the secretary of the chief of police. He ordered to lead him in front of the juvenile court and we don´t know if we´ll ever see him again. He deserves it"

_...The pain, which all of you have to bear right now._

Renjou doesn´t answer. He´s not part of the gang, what should he say anyway? He doesn´t feel anything right now. He never had a special connection to that boy. He´s not out for revenge. Only for fun and distraction.

"Does everyone have a few firecrackers and lighter? Sprays?"

They nod.

"Let´s go now". They separate into pairs of two and take different paths toward the mansion. Already six blocks before the actual building, they can hear all the noise, the laughter, the music. Even the splashing of water can be heard.

"They even have a pool" the guy with him growls, jealousy evident in his raspy voice.

He shrugs slightly and wraps his shawl around his face while walking. Then his cap and hood.

His golden eyes glow in the darkness.

...

His expression remains unmoved when he sees all those people from behind a large wall, but inside his blood starts to boil. From excitement and that burning envy. While his body turns as hot as a blaze, his left arm begins to hurt. Maybe it has gotten a bit infected from last night, while he was cutting himself. He shakes his head to distract himself from the pain.

"Ya ok?" the guy beside him asks.

"Yeah…" His gaze turns to the cell in his hand. It´s half past twelve. It has taken them more than an hour to prepare everything and come here. The oldest told them that he´d send them a message when it should begin. Renjou plays with the lighter in his left hand. In his right one he already holds a firecracker. Inside his gloves it feels sticky from his sweat.

Then his cell buzzes.

_'Get ready'_

His breath gets slower and his eyes narrow. The muscles in his legs seem to crawl underneath his skin; they want to move, to jump, to run. His heart waits eagerly for that short moment of feeling pure freedom.

The cell buzzes anew, pulsates in his hand like it senses what´s going to happen.

_'3'_

Renjou stands up from his sitting position. The guy does so, too, both fear and nervousness in their eyes.

_'2'_

Tonight they´ll make a lot of trouble and certainly a lot of damage. Maybe even a lot of people sad. Only for that stupid idea of taking revenge for a homeless, young fool who got caught while illegally spraying a new train.

As if the gang would feel satisfied after that.

As if that would comfort that piercing pain in their chests.

_'1'_

He throws his cell into his pocket. He doesn´t need to read the last message.

_'Go'_

_...  
_

Every one of the inhabitants of the Tasogarekan flinches and falls silent, when the plate with cookies crushes onto the living room floor and breaks into thousands of shreds. Tsukumo, who let it fall down, stands like frozen and his eyes of the color of honey stare helplessly into space. He seems to listen to something or rather someone hectically talking. The people sitting on the couches watch him carefully.

Shusei rests his chin in his palm.

Horai Kuroto, a Zweilt with the ability 'Legs of Gods' sits next to him and frowns.

Tachibana, who sits in an armchair, raises his eyebrows and they almost disappear behind the flap on his kinda strange looking hat.

Furuori Senshiro looks up from the TV guide in his hands.

After maybe two or three minutes of silence, Yuki opens his mouth and asks carefully "Is everything alright, Tsukumo?"

It takes a moment, until Tsukumo answers, with a voice like coming from far away "No… Something happened on the party… Touko-chan has…"

He stops talking and seems to listen again. Due to their ability 'Ear of Gods' he and his sister can communicate via telepathy. Yuki´s eyes immediately fill with worry. Luca, a Duras on the side of the Giou Clan and to whom Yuki is the dearest thing in life, looks at the young boy intently.

"Do you mean Duras…?" Kuroto asks the white haired boy through gritted teeth and with clenched fists.

"No… I don´t think so… But a lot is damaged…"

He listens again and after maybe another minute, Tsukumo finally moves again and looks at Tachibana. "You don´t mind it when I go there now, right?" he asks.

Tachibana shakes his head. "But be careful, ok? As long as we don´t know if it were Duras or not"

"Wait, I´ll come with you" Yuki says and jumps up. Tsukumo nods and they leave the living room.

...

His breath is uncontrolled and his skin burns, _burns_ so intensely that he believes, anytime he´d fade into ashes. The pain in his left arm feels dirty and sick. With a shivering hand, he rolls the sleeve if his sweater up and almost chokes at the sight of his arm.

The wounds from the last time cutting himself are infected and reddish.

Some spots are even black and a few suppurate.

His head is spinning. He feels dizzy. He carefully touches one of the infected cuts. It hurts so much he wants to scream.

_Damn it…_

He already feels his weaker getting muscles, the aching limbs. Fear overwhelms him and leaves no space for another thought. This fever is gonna _kill_ him. He rips some fabric of one of his old clothes apart and wraps it around his arm. He greets his teeth at the unbearable pain, but after that, he has tears in his eyes and feels like losing consciousness.

_I don't want to die like this…_

He forces himself to stand up. His body is shaking, but he tries to ignore it. Otherwise, he´ll soon be too weak to move anymore.

_I won´t die like this...! _

He massages his temples while walking, walking towards the lively shopping malls.

He needs money.

He needs to buy some medicine.

He needs to stay alive.

...

_It has been two days since the incident on that party… The damage amounts to ca. 1 598 966 yen. The whole garden is demolished. And like always, the police have no idea how to find the youths who did that…_ It´s already evening. He had committee meeting, so he has to go home alone. Not that he bothers. In a large crowd, everyone is alone. Lonesome.

He slightly increases his pace. He has the feeling of someone following him.

Watching him.

Observing his movements.

_Seeing _him.

It´s an awkward feeling. Like someone would scan his whole body, the way he walks, the way he might run, the time it would take until he realizes that maybe his wallet is gone. Never mind how much he watches the people around him; he always knows that he looks in the wrong direction.

You never see _them_. Never feel them. Only when it´s already too late.

He wants to distract himself and reaches into his sports bag in order to pull out his Mp3-player. He feels his clothes, his cell… and something soft and warm.

No, hotter.

Something searing.

Burning.

The blaze flows from his fingertips to every part of his body. He flinches and grabs his wallet. Touching slim, slightly shivering fingers at the same time. He turns around, appalled and alerted.

...

_Run! _

_Run! _

_Run! _

_Run for God´s sake!_ Everything inside him screams to just knock the smaller guy before him down and run away with the wallet. His hands are shaking and his left arm slowly kills him. They look each other in the eyes, burning and icy fingers touching each other. The cold hand of the soon ex-owner of the wallet feels incredibly cool. But then the pain in his left arm overwhelms him with all might anew and he feels his legs almost give way.

...

Thousands of emotions curse through him when he looks at the pickpocket. There´s confusion, anger and slight fear, but also worry and pity. The guy looks skinny and somehow hunted. There´re dark circles under his golden, exhausted eyes.

Wait…

_Golden…? _

That catches his attention. He tries to pull his wallet out of those shaking hands, but the pickpocket only grips it tighter, his eyes show a hint of fear.

His breath gets faster and he can feel the quick heartbeat through his fingers.

Shusei narrows his eyes.

But then, a raspy, desperate and almost pleading voice slips through those trembling lips.

"Please, let go"

* * *

**To be continued...**

**So, this was the third chap. Hotsuma and Shusei finally met^^ I hope you enjoyed :)**

**And no excuses anymore. To those, who also read 'A Story about Best Friends' I apologize for deleting it, but I thought about it and I had made a few huge mistakes while writing that story, so I decided to delete it. **

**But still, I thank all the people who supported me while writing that. I learned a lot and always tried to improve my writing skills. This story, 'Streetfire', also is somehow meant to be a compensation, too. In my other Uraboku fic, I never once let Hotsuma and Shusei hug or anything. And I remember clearly how one of the readers mentioned in a review that the readers want YAOI, so I should give them YAOI. And I hope to somehow do that in this fic. **

**I´m not a good writer, I´m still young, my writing skills are nothing special, my stories are not really poetic or filled with a beatiful vocabulary. I´m a german, so english is not my first language, no matter how hard I try to improve it. But still, you read my story, that fic 'A Story about Best Friends'. I can´t describe how much that meant to me.  
**

**Thanks for all your support till now and for wasting your precious time reading my stories. **

**You don´t know how much all of you mean to me.**

**~~ MissMoonlightdancer ~~  
**


	4. Back

**So, here´s the next chap. Please enjoy^^ **

**BTW: Crap, while I was reading all your reviews, I almost started crying :( I realized again, how much effort and work I have actually put in 'A Story about Best Friends'. Well, I´ll overthink my decision once again. **

**Kimihearts**

**Sorry if the last part in the last chapter between Shusei and Hotsuma was that confusing. But it was Shusei´s POV. Actually I´m always putting '...' when the point of views are changing. But I´ll try to make it less confusing^^**

**Disclaimer: I don´t own Uragiri wa boku no namae wo shitteiru.  
**

* * *

Did you ever have a déjà vu?

That experience of reliving a moment you´ve seen already.

The feeling of wanting so badly to remember.

Of wanting to know why you´re reliving that scenario again.

The bitter taste of disappointment.

Maybe even sadness.

The feeling of that gap in your memories, which you can´t fill up again.

Losing it more and more.

...

He never would´ve expected a pickpocket to ask his victim to voluntarily let go of his wallet. Honestly, what kind of pickpocket would do that? Either he´s just totally dumb… or completely desperate.

But in this case it´s the latter and it sends a strange numbness through his body, when he sees those unknown, golden eyes so similar to his own, filled with so many emotions, filled with the pure will of living that his nerves flatter slightly in jealousy. His own amber eyes are just lacking exactly those emotions and feelings.

But maybe that raspy voice of the guy in front of him distracted him too much; at least he feels the burning blaze in his body fade away as his fingers lose contact with him. Only one last gaze. And the pickpocket turns around, without looking back, and disappears between all those people.

But he wouldn´t be a Zweilt (and work with the police) if he didn´t know how to follow people and find out where they are. No matter how much he is fascinated by those eyes, in his wallet there´re still his money, his cash card, his ID card and his student ID. And he can´t just let those things being stolen. He sighs and starts to run.

...

He has never ever felt sorry for those whose wallets he has stolen. Nor did he ever lose a second thought on them. If it was different, he couldn´t keep up the life of his without regretting absolutely everything and feeling guilty for all kinds of shit he has already done. To live on the street means to only care about oneself and no one else.

But when he runs as fast as he can, first through the crowded shopping mall and after that through the maze of alleys he knows so well, he can´t help but return his thoughts to his last victim. It annoys him, but he can´t get rid of the image of that guy´s face. And on top of that, he has other problems. First of all, he needs medicine for his infected arm and something to get down his fever.

And after that… well, he´ll see.

...

He´s sick. He notices it while he runs after him, watching him. Maybe the pickpocket doesn´t even notice himself, but he flinches with every step he takes and whenever he hits a wall or something else. And he gets more and more tired. Even from afar, he can tell by the way the guy starts to move slower and look tiredly for a place to rest. 

_Now I got him…_

It´s quite annoying to run with a sports bag over his shoulder. He falls into a slower walk, his breath hardly showing any signs of exhaustion.

...

He slides down a cold, rough wall and sits down on the dirty round. His fingers are clenched around the wallet. He slowly relaxes his muscles and pants. Sweat drips down his temples and flows into his eyes. It burns, but not as unbearable as his arm does. He takes off his hood and feels the wonderful cool air of the evening touching his skin. He´s about to open the wallet to check how much cash there is, as suddenly he hears the echo of slow steps reaching him and he flinches.

_No… it can´t be him... _

He presses himself into the shade and narrows his eyes, trying to ignore the stabbing pain in his arm.

...

When Shusei turns around the corner, he finds himself standing between the walls of dirty, maybe empty high-risers. It´s cooler than on the shopping mall and a shudder crawls down his spine. _Where´s he…?_

He looks around and his 'Eyes of Gods' pierce into the darkest spots and corners, revealing everything there is. And then he sees him.

Pressed against a wall that looks like covered with black ashes. He looks like he wants to sink into the wall and disappear completely. But his eyes are open and glowing in the darkness and for the blink of an eye, their gazes meet.

Almost at the same time, he moves and turns his eyes away from him. Like before. He stands up and leans against the wall, watching him from the corners of his eyes, waiting for him to do something. He approaches and keeps his eyes locked on those of the pickpocket.

The ones of the thief have some fire burning in them, sarcastic and provoking, and his gaze is hard and unmoving, but still does the fire inside him seem to flicker, like trying to hide his fatigue, his exhaustion and maybe his fear, no matter what. When he stands maybe two meters in front of him, he can clearly see the face now.

His bangs are falling into his eyes and he looks much younger now. In one of his hands, there´s his wallet. And they stand there, looking into each other´s eyes, while the silence is getting longer and much deeper with every passing moment.

...

Renjou´s left hand slightly shivers while holding the wallet. He needs his right hand to be free. To punch the lights off in those amber eyes, which look like mirror images of his own ones. He silently wishes the guy never had followed him. But now, there´s no other way as to hit him and run away again. It´s not like he likes that idea, but neither will he hesitate. Why should he care about him at all?

But as he wants to move, something inside him stops him, trying to protract this moment they look at nothing but each other.

He shakes off that strange feeling and starts to walk up to the ex-owner of the wallet.

_Sorry, Dude…_

_...  
_

"Wait a sec"

He watches the pickpocket stopping walking and shooting him a look that could kill one instantly. There´s a slight blush on his dirty face, since moments earlier, his pride has been dangerously scratched and he has lost the wallet again. You can almost touch the rage, which is still aired from him.

"What do ya want? You have it back, right? So leave me alone, and we won´t have to ever meet again!" he snaps and his raspy voice sounds annoyed, incredibly angry and strangely unused and wavering.

"Your arm is hurt, right?" Shusei asks in a low voice and his eyes wander to the left arm of the pickpocket.

Latter flinches and shoots him a furious look. "Mind ya own shit"

He remains silent and returns his eyes to those of the thief.

Doubts color his features.

_It´s not him, right...? _

Suddenly, a cell buzzes and it sounds far too loud in the dark alley. But it´s not his. The pickpocket stands like frozen, maybe unsure if he should answer the call or not. After a minute, he growls and digs his right hand into his pocket, taking out his cell. He turns away and answers. And while he´s talking with his head downcast, Shusei studies intensely his profile.

...

The people mostly have all the same average faces. No character in them, telling no stories, only showing emotions once in a while and always those primitive ones like sadness or happiness. And especially for Japanese, who always have that certain, relaxed, friendly, totally pretended smile on their unmoving faces.

But this face is one of those that are terribly rare and you never get tired of looking at them. They show every emotion, every feeling, may it be sad, happy, uncertain, suspicious, trustful or else. Those people´s minds you can usually read like a book- and still, they never get boring. His eyes narrow slightly and like before, a wave of jealousy washes over him.

_If only…_

But before he can think any further, the pickpocket puts the cell back into his pocket and looks at him again. The rage and annoyance slowly dissipate from his eyes and fatigue, exhaustion and pain contort his expression and let him look much older than he actually is. The fire in his eyes subsides into a tired glow.

His own shoulders drop and he approaches the guy and when he stands right in front of him, he looks up to him and says slowly and comforting "Wait here. I´ll be right back"

And even when he turns around the next corner to get back to the shopping mall again, he knows that the guy is still standing there.

...

Renjou looks demonstratively into a different direction, as the smaller boy carefully cleans the infected wounds and wraps a clean, white bandage around his upper arm. His slim fingers actually aren´t completely cool like ice or anything, they´re rather… as warm as a last fleeting summer breeze at the end of September.

But his hands don´t hurt him.

And after the bandage is finished, the pain in his arm doesn´t feel dirty and feverish anymore, only clean and healthy-getting. And through the whole process, they have never once looked each other in the eyes. But now, as they stand up, he can´t help but search for his eyes. And eventually, he catches his attention again and feels relieved not to see any signs of pity or charity.

Only that blank, silent expression.

"So, what are you going to do now?" the guy suddenly asks.

"…Guess I´m going home - oh shit…"

"…"

"The call I got earlier... It was from someone I know. He told me that I can´t go to my place right now"

"…?"

"Too dangerous, ya know…"

Probably not but he is too tired for making long explanations.

"And now? Where are you going to stay?"

"Why are you so interested, anyway?" he asks suspiciously, not noticing the shade running over his opposites face.

For a moment, he presses his lips together, the only sign of some angry emotions coursing though him.

But then he sighs. "You know… you could stay at my place"

"…"

"Well?"

"…Are ya kidding?"

...

"No, I´m not" Shusei answers and slaps himself mentally for even offering him to come with him. 

_He must think of me as a complete idiot…_

But he can´t resist. There´s something about that pickpocket. Something he can´t explain, but he is fascinated by him and his raw emotions, which he even takes out on his own body. 

_I´ve seen your scars…_

And on top of that, the fact that he has golden eyes still bothers him. But wouldn´t it be almost ridiculously, if it really was a fateful coincidence?

He thoughtfully picks up his sports bag and throws it over his shoulder. "So?" he asks again, turning around toward him.

The pickpocket seems like fighting with himself. But then he shrugs. "It was your idea"

Shusei nods quietly and turns around, walking the way back to the shopping mall. He is already late and the sun is almost gone.

...

"Just one question… Are ya doing Martial Arts?"

Those words just slip out of Renjou´s mouth before he can stop them. They´re walking through an area with rich-looking mansions and fucking expensive looking cars standing in the gateways.

The smaller guy one or two steps ahead of him, turns his head to the side to look at him inquiringly.

"You stopped my punch, knocked me down and took your wallet back"

Something like a smirk appears on the guy´s face. "No…it´s not really Martial Arts… But something along those lines…"

He raises his eyebrows, but the boy turns forward again. After maybe fifteen minutes, the boy turns into a certain gateway and walks up the path which is wide enough that at least two cars and a motorbike can ride next to each other and still have a lot of space in between. He follows his skeptically. _Are his parents that rich…? Well… already his school uniform looks like from an expensive Highschool… _

And then he sees the large, white mansion which almost looks like a small castle.

He stops walking and stares at it with big eyes, completely speechless. A few windows of the mansion are enlightened and a strange aura seems to linger in the air. He swallows nervously. There´s something about this mansion… he just doesn´t know what it is… or where this feeling comes from.

But it leaves an agonizing feeling inside of him.

_If I could only remember…_

_...  
_

Shusei watches him, curiosity flashing into his eyes.

He can´t really tell what the pickpocket is thinking right now, there´re too many emotions coloring his face.

But that makes it even harder for him not to start believing that it´s probably _him_.

Of course the first sight of the mansion is quite impressive, but… why is there that almost painful looking feeling on his features now? 

_Why is he looking that way, now…_

He bites his lip. Then he turns back to his home and forms a half-hearted smirk, which slightly resounds in his voice. "So, this is the place I live and where you´ll stay tonight"

"…"

"I guess I have to say 'Welcome to the Twilight Mansion'"

* * *

**To be continued...**

**So, I hope you enjoyed. Please review^^  
**


	5. Empty Room

**So, here´s the next chap^^ Please enjoy :)**

**And because it may was a bit unclear in the last chapter, I just wanted to say that Shusei doesn´t know that it´s Hotsuma. He doesn´t recognize him, since they have never met before and actually the only reason why he has been so interested in him so far, is the fact that Hotsuma also has those golden eyes (which I guess are quite seldom in Japan). And maybe some weird feelings inside of him which start to churn whenever he looks at him. But yeah, he doesn´t know that it´s him.**

**And to Shino159:**

**Yeah, that was a type mistake^^ I actually meant 'dirty ground' not 'round'. **

**Disclaimer: I don´t own Uragiri wa boku no namae wo shitteiru or any lyrics by Seether feat. Amy lee.  
**

_

* * *

Inside it looks even larger…_

Renjou looks up to the crystalline luster hanging from above. Yet, the light in the entrance hall is kinda dimmed, so the shadows crawling over the walls look darker and somehow more frightening to him. Except from a few seats standing in one corner, the hall is empty. Large, dark-wooden doors lead into other rooms, but there´s light shining though the slits. And wide stairs with a crimson red carpet lead into the first floor. But upstairs, everything looks dark, like no one is there right now.

He turns around to the guy, who´s silently waiting at the stairs. For a few seconds, they stare at each other.

"What is it?" the boy asks quietly.

"…Nothing"

"Then come upstairs"

Without looking back, he starts walking up the stairs, making not one single sound while moving. He follows him after a short moment of hesitance. "You know, this mansion´s like from an old Horror-movie"

"…"

"Guess it´s damn downbeat to live here, right?"

At those words, the boy stops right in front of a door, maybe his room. "Maybe…" he murmurs, laying a hand on the doorknob and opening the door.

His room is large.

_Really _large.

It probably is as big as most people´s living room and kitchen together. And everything is so clean and modern and expensive. Just looking at the boy´s bed, make him narrow his eyes in envy. And through one door, he can even see an own bathroom.

_Damn, he really has everything… _

And he has nothing.

...

Shusei watches the reaction of the pickpocket from the corners of his eyes. He almost hopes to see something like recognition in his face, but there´s only surprise and jealousy. He closes the door and the pickpocket flinches, glaring at him is distrust.

"Do you want to take a shower?" he asks.

The guy before him shrugs. "Afterwards, you´ll surely need to renovate your whole bathroom, I tell you"

He smirks "I´ll risk it"

But before the pickpocket disappears into the bathroom, he turns around to him once again. "I still don´t know your name, right?"

"Yeah"

"Well?"

"If I tell you mine, will you tell me yours?" Shusei asks back, his voice holding a hint of amusement.

His opposite starts to frown. "Is it really necessary?"

"Do you want me to call you 'pickpocket' or 'guy' all the time?"

He grimaces. Then he nods. "I´ll tell you, but you´ll start"

"It´s Usui Shusei"

"Renjou"

"…And your forename?"

"…"

"..."

"…"

"...?"

"…It´s Hotsuma"

His name seems to linger so lonely in the air. Like he´s standing there now, embarrassed of himself even though there´s no reason, looking completely wrong in his dirty clothes in this big, clean, empty room.

"…Inside there´re unused towels. Shall I get you some fresh clothes? I guess, mine won´t fit you, but-"

"No, it´s ok"

"…Well then…"

They look into different directions, each visibly confused. Then the door closes.

...

Beneath the hot water jet, he relaxes bit by bit. It´s long ago since the last time he has had a proper shower. Usually, he only washes himself with the cold water in the cave in the old warehouse, but sometimes he also burgles into a house which owners are currently on a trip, and there he takes a shower and so on. But when he does that, he can never really relax, always waiting to hear the noise of the police approaching.

But this is different.

He thoughtfully touches the wet tiles. His hand´s not dirty anymore. It looks like it´s supposed to look. Clean, pale, innocent, but protecting if it´s necessary. But now, the scars are even more evident on his skin. Shining silver and covering his whole left arm. The bandage the guy has made is already soaked and becomes loose. He doesn´t care, though. He has never expected it to last that long. He roughly rips it off, revealing his wounds.

They don´t bleed anymore, but the scabs are still soft and thin. He still feels the boy´s cool yet warm fingers touching him carefully, not once flinching at the sight of his arm. He grits his teeth, digging his fingernails into the scabs, opening the wounds again, letting the blood flow in a net of red rivers down his arm, dripping to his feet and washing away. A moment later he pulls his hand back, leaning against the tiles.

_Shit… _

The pain flaring up is no surprise. But now, he can handle his feelings better, since after hurting himself, he always feels so light… so empty. But one thought still sticks in his mind.

The name.

_His_ name.

It´s not familiar at all, but somehow… its sound still resounds in his ears. It´s long ago since someone has talked to him like that. His voice doesn´t sound rough or rude or unfriendly.

No yelling.

No cursing.

Almost emotionless, but still comforting, quiet and calm.

"_Usui Shusei"_.

He has never heard that name before, but his nerves flatter as he murmurs it aloud to himself.

_Shit…Just why?_

He holds his face into the hot water.

_Just why is this… is _he_ bothering me so much…? _

_...  
_

When he finally steps out of the bathroom, he finds himself alone. The boy is nowhere in sight. Uncertainly, he moves through the room, his bare feet claw into the soft carpet. _He really must be fucking rich…_

He walks over to the large desk. The computer is turned off, of course. A few books and notebooks are laying there, one´s open, the pencil right next to it. He has a nice handwriting, not such a scrawl like he has. _I wonder in which class he is…_

But just looking at his desk makes him frown. There´s something missing.

There´re no bored scribbles at the corners of the note books. No crumpled worksheets. No chaos on the desk. Not even little notes hanging on the monitor. He turns around to overlook the whole room.

The walls are all empty.

_Completely_ empty.

A guy in his age would hang dozens of posters onto the walls. Live in a room, which rather reminds one of a chaotic battlefield. But all signs of somehow _living_ or _enjoying_ living are missing.

_How can he live in such a house and room? Never mind big and expensive- is it not totally depressing? _

Suddenly, a cool breeze tickles his nose and he turns around. Only one window´s open in his room. The curtains are slightly moving from the wind. Outside, it´s already dark, but he smells the odor of summer.

Dry grass, watermelons, cool water, growing apples and pears and ripe, red cherries.

His legs move on their own and a moment later, he sits down on the green bench in front of the open window. From where he sits, he can look over the whole garden. No, not even the whole one.

The garden looks kinda wild, but there´re little paths leading through the bushes and trees. It looks a bit like a maze. And in the center of that maze, there is a fountain. The atmosphere is light and calm. He can hear the wind laying in those tender, green leaves and the quiet sound of the water splashing out of the fountain. Somewhere there´re even some crickets chirping.

Lost in thought, he touches the window sill. There´s still some heat flowing from the inside, but it cools off more and more. His eyes move to the distant sky. The thin clouds seem so far away. Are they even moving? He rests his chin in his palm.

_What a sad… _

_...and lonely place…._

_...  
_

When Shusei returns to his room, the first thing he sees is the pickpocket…_Hotsuma_… sitting on the bench in front of the open window, looking into the garden. His eyes narrow slightly, but his heart jumps in his chest. Yet, that sight holds something versant to him and his 'Eyes of Gods' burn as he tries to imprint this image into his mind. At the same time, his fingers holding the tray full with food clench.

This scene is…_feels_… far too familiar.

And it´s hard not to start believing…_hoping_…that it´s him.

No matter how much he may wants it.

A moment later, he moves his eyes away and walks over to the table. There he lays the tray down and the sound makes the boy on the bench flinch and turn around to him. Like before, they glare at each other, uncertain of what to say. And after a while, he breaks the eye contact and asks "Are you hungry?"

...

Hotsuma shrugs, but his stomach rumbles. His eyes stick to the tray full of food. He gulps.

_So much…_

But the movement of the boy brings him back to life and he looks at him suspiciously. But the guy only puts two plates onto the table and sits down on one of the chairs. Still, he doesn´t start eating. He only rests his chin in his palms and watches him from the corners of his eyes. His brown bangs fall into his eyes, shading them a bit. That sight somehow disturbs him.

It´s not…alright… to see him sit there like all alone.

Not in his own big empty room.

So he stands up and walks over to him, sitting down on the other chair, a hidden blush on his face. His legs suddenly feel so long and hardly stay still. He´s nervous. Hesitantly, he touches the expensive cutlery.

"Help yourself" the boy, Shusei, murmurs and looks away.

Hotsuma glances at him for a moment, but then his stomach wins control and he quickly grabs the bowl with potatoes and the plate with rice. He has almost forgotten already, how that feels like.

Without the police hunting him.

Without the noises of screaming restaurant owners.

Without that exhausted, always distressed heartbeat of his, which makes all the food he eats taste like dust. And as he swallows the first fork full of potatoes, he can´t help but feel that glowing envy again.

...

_He´s eating like a starving animal..._

His movements look so hounded, like he´s used to always be traced while eating. His own plate is still empty. Like always, he´s not hungry. And he rather watches Hotsuma closely.

Now that he´s free of dirt and dust, he can clearly see how young he actually is. The only blemishes on his pale skin are scars.

Thin silver lines.

One on his neck, a few almost invisible small on his cheeks, there´re some on his hands and he remembers those on his left arm.

And that certain look in his golden eyes. That everlasting distrust and sadness in his gaze.

He´s caught deep within his thoughts and he flinches at the sound of a raspy voice. "Aren´t you hungry, too?" Hotsuma asks and his voice holds some remorse in it.

"…?"

"I almost ate everything myself…"

Shusei looks over to the plates. They really are practically empty. "No…I´m not hungry… And did you have enough or shall I-"

"No, I´m full" he interrupts him quickly.

"…Then I guess I´ll take the stuff back to the kitchen now"

The taller guy helps him putting the plates back onto the tray. After that, he leaves the room again.

...

"…Can I ask you something?"

"…?"

"How old are you?"

That question surprises him a bit. He looks up from his school books and glances over to him. Hotsuma sits on the carpet, back leaning against the bed, on his lap one of his magazines about archery. He looks at bit startled about his own attempt of starting a conversation and hastily moves his eyes back to the pages.

"…I´m seventeen" Shusei answers, slightly frowning.

"…"

"And you?"

"…"

"…?"

"Sixteen" he mutters.

_He´s even younger than me…_

"…And…since when-?"

"Dunno...I forgot..."

"…"

"Maybe…like...three years already?"

_Since he´s thirteen…he´s living on the street…all alone. _

Their frail conversation fades into silence. Both keeping their eyes downcast. But after a while, Shusei parts his lips. "Are you tired?"

"…A bit…"

"In the Mansion there´re countless empty rooms, maybe-"

"But you have a second bed in your room" Hotsuma murmurs unconsciously. A second later he hectically shakes his head "No, forget what I said, I was just talking nonsense" he tries to convince Shusei or rather himself.

...

_Shit, what the hell did I say just now?_

He doesn´t know where those words have come from, but that keen momentum has somehow startled him. He throws the magazine onto the bed and stands up. So does Shusei.

"Uhm…then just show those unused rooms now-"

"Do you really want to?"

"…?"

"Sleep in that bed over there?"

Hotsuma shrugs. Why not? It´s only a bed. He has been a bit surprised at noticing it in the other corner of the room, but who cares? He looks at the smaller boy. His gaze seems far away.

"…?"

"Well… If you want to…"

"…Are you serious?"

A weird expression takes its place on his face. "Yeah…"

And he somehow feels relieved. Even though he doesn´t know, why.

He just feels like… he doesn´t want to be alone tonight.

Even if it´s only for once.

...

_Since we died... no one has slept in there till now. _

_I don´t know him. _

_And I don´t know… if it´s you or not. _

_...And I don´t know... what to believe… _

_...  
_

The next morning he wakes up, the sunrays breaking through the window stab into his eyes and makes it hard to see something. He tiredly sits up and runs a hand through his hair. But then, the memories of the past night flash into his mind and his eyes immediatly move to the bed in the other corner of the bed. From where he is, he can see the crumpled sheets. But nothing…no one… beneath them. Confused, he stands up and walks to the all too familiar bed. It´s empty. Next thing he looks at is the slightly open bathroom door. So he isn´t in there, too.

_That means… he´s…_

But after a moment, something catches his attention. A single note lying on the table. He slowly picks it up.

"_I Guess I owe you. Thanks for…damn, you know already". _

The note flies down onto the table again. And he feels himself sitting down as well, empty eyes staring into space. _So it wasn´t you? _But the awareness hits him like a wave of ice cold water.

_For a short moment... I even wished that... it may be you…_

He covers his eyes, tired of seeing and not seeing what should have been evident to his 'Eyes of Gods'.

...

_I don't feel right_

_When you're gone away_

_You've gone away_

_You don't feel me_

_ anymore_

* * *

**To be continued...**

**I hope you enjoyed.  
**

**And the lyrics at the end are from the song 'Broken' by Seether feat. Amy Lee, the singer from Evanescene (I love her voice).**

**BTW: Does anyone know why I can´t read some fanfics in this or other fandoms anymore? There´re always errors occuring and I don´t know why. Is it only me who has that problem? And does anyone know how to get rid of it?  
**

**Anyway, please review^^**


	6. His Chain

**So, here´s the next chapter. Please enjoy^^**

**To Sapphire Soulske:**

**About that thing that only people related to the Zweilts can enter the Tasogarekan... Well, I didn´t know about that, sorry. After I read your comment, I reread the first two volumes (in german) and there´s never once mentioned that it´s like that... .  
**

**And in your review for chap. 5 you said something about that Shusei wouldn´t remember him. Actually, Zweilts don´t remember their whole past, only parts of it and so he remembers his partner. At least that´s how I understood the explanations in the manga. **

**But still, thanks for all your supporting reviews^^ **

**Disclaimer: I don´t own Uragiri wa boku no namae wo shitteiru.  
**

* * *

"So you ask me to check the 2nd year's fund" he says slightly surprised, looking up from his social science book.

"Yes. You know, my parents were about to change the insurance, so they quit the old contract but we still hadn´t had the new one yet. And then our mansion was demolished at the party and… we have no money to pay the renovations" his classmate, a girl whose father is the secretary of the chief of police, explains and looks at him with exhausted eyes.

"Well, I can try to check it, but I don´t know if it´s enough and if you can have the money… Actually it´s for the trip to Rome next year…"

"Please, Usui-kun…"

"…I´ll see what I can do" he sighs.

She smiles thankfully and leaves. He returns his attention to his homework, but somehow he can´t concentrate anymore. His eyes move out of the window, where the sun is shining hot and merciless down. But inside the school, it´s cool and now in the Friday afternoon lessons, quite silent. Suddenly, someone sits down opposite of him and he notices the furious glare. With a wry smile, he looks at his mate from archery club.

"Let me guess…. You´re here to tell me that I should come today, right?" he asks amused.

"You missed already four lessons! Think a bit of your _kohais_, they need a quiet model like you and not always our nervous captain…"

"Yeah… I know…"

"Then throw your books into your bag already and get going! We´re waiting!"

He chuckles in a low voice. "Ok…"

He needs something to distract himself, anyway.

...

Hotsuma raises his eyebrows as he watches the people standing in one line, aiming at the targets. He hides in the shade under a tree, back pressed against the rough bark. It´s unbearable hot and even though he´s not moving, the sweat tickles down his temples. _Don´t they sweat in their however-they´re-called-clothes for archery? _

The bruise on his cheekbone hurts and he touches it carefully. "Ouch…" His baggies are torn at several spots, mostly at his knees, and the sole of his shoes are coming off already.

No surprise to him.

He has almost spent the past days entirely running.

And the dark circles around his eyes show that he lacks sleep.

And he guesses that somehow the lack of sleep or the punches have muddled his mind up, so now he earnestly _waits _for the one who offered him a bed, a shower and food a few days ago, to bring him back something he had _stolen_ from him before he has vanished out of his room. He grimaces and looks at the cross with the chain in his hand.

The cross and the chain are black and feel cool on his skin, and in the center of the cross there is a glowing red ruby incorporated. That jewel has been the reason why he has taken it. But before he could sell it, he has decided to keep it or rather give it back. And now, he stands here near a super elite school and waits for the guy to finally be finished with his archery practice. After a few more minutes of watching, he slides down the tree, resting on the dry grass.

The heat makes him sleepy.

So he closes his eyes.

...

"You´re sleeping, right?" he asks in a low voice, his bag and bow over one shoulder, eyes resting on the unmoving boy sitting under the tree.

The pickpocket doesn´t move.

"I wonder if you wanted to talk to me…"

He observes him intently and his eyes slightly narrow at the sight of the bruises on his cheeks and knuckles. His clothes are the same he wearied four days ago on Monday, but now they look worse.

_What happened to you…?_

But he doesn´t have the heart to wake him up. He looks so peacefully when he´s asleep. So he just sits down under the same tree, between two large roots and turns on his Mp3-player. He leans against the bark like the sleeping boy next to him does and closes his eyes.

_I´ll just wait until you wake up, then…Hotsuma._

After a while, he opens his eyes to change the album he´s hearing, but then he notices two golden eyes glaring at him. He turns his gaze to the left, meeting the pickpocket´s.

"For how long have you been there already?" the taller boy hisses.

He looks at his wristwatch. "Almost an hour"

"Shit…"

He raises his eyebrows. Hotsuma notices his visible irritation and snaps "It has nothing to do with you!"

At those words, Shusei sighs and stands up. "Well, if that´s the case… I´ll go home now"

He turns his back to the pickpocket, slowly walking away.

...

_Goddamn! Why´s he going away like that now? _he complains mentally. His hand around the chain clenches and he fights with himself. He hates the idea of running after him, but even more the feeling of having stolen something from him. In the end, latter wins and he jumps up. "Hey! Wait for a sec, would ya?" he shouts.

The smaller boy stops and turns around to him. He walks faster to catch up with him. Now they stand opposite each other, neither talks and the silence goes on. Hotsuma bites on his lower lip, thinking of how to start apologizing. But after noticing his lacking skills of talking nicely to someone else, he only thrusts his hand with the chain out, demonstratively looking away.

...

Shusei blinks several times, before slowly reaching out his own hand and taking the chain from him. He recognizes it in an instant.

It´s the chain of _him_.

His partner.

Best Friend.

Soul mate.

His everything.

"Sorry…" the taller boy murmurs.

"…"

"I took it with me before leaving your mansion"

"…But you didn´t take the ring, right?"

"What?"

"Forget it"

He lets the cool chain slide through his fingers until he reaches the cross. There´s no single scratch on it, not even after all those years of waiting for its owner. As he looks into the ruby that seems to burn, he remembers it hanging around his partner's neck. His eyes wander from the chain to his empty right forefinger. A silver ring used to sit there. At least in his past lives. But why now wearing a ring without someone else who has the matching part? Of course he still has his ring, but it lies at home in the Tasogarekan, somewhere hidden in a drawer, waiting to finally see the sun again. For a moment, he feels a large pressure on his heart and he clenches his hand around the cross so tightly that it stabs into his flesh already. His eyes get a much darker shade and move into the distance.

...

He watches the reaction of the smaller boy. He doesn´t seem to be relieved to see the chain again. Did he even notice that it was gone? It´s rather like… it pains him to see it. Although he doesn´t know, why. But there´s something in his look that makes Hotsuma feel quite anxious. Uncomfortable. Puzzled. Maybe even a bit jealous, even though he can´t explain it to himself. It´s like he has stepped too far into the boy´s privacy with stealing that chain. He runs a hand through his hair.

"You-"

"Thanks" the brunet suddenly says, his eyes returning to him.

"What?"

"You gave it back to me"

"…And you´re not angry?"

"…?"

"To be honest, I found it in the night table next to the bed I was sleeping in. But I stole it, after all. I mean, first you let me have a shower and you gave me something to eat…"

His voice gets quieter. "…And you let me sleep in a bed. And all I did was stealing that chain from you and disappear without a word. You´re _supposed_ to be angry"

Shusei shrugs. "It´s past now, right?"

"Right…"

"…"

"…Are you still going to go home, now?" Hotsuma asks.

"Are there any other options?"

He blushes and turns away. "Forget it"

"…"

"I… maybe…do you want to… you know already…"

"…?"

…_Hang out with me? _Hell, it´s long ago since the last time he has tried to say that to someone else. And hell, it embarrasses him. But all he knows now is that strange urge of wanting to…somehow spend a little more time with him. Naturally, his pride fights against it and he digs his hands into his pockets.

"See ya…" he mutters, angry with himself.

"I have no homework to do today" Shusei muses behind his back.

He looks at him from the corners of his eyes. The smaller boy returns the gaze, as if sensing perfectly what he has been about to say.

_It´s like…he knew…_

He smirks wryly. "Then you could come with me. I have nothing to do, as well"

"And where are you taking me to?"

His smirk gets a little more ironic. "Maybe I´ll show you _my _Tokyo"

...

They have no real direction.

No one follows the other; they only walk side by side, leaving some space in between, but they´re still so close that it feels comfortable.

They don´t talk much.

The silence between them is calm and bright. It´s enough not to need to walk alone.

After a while, the sun starts to set already, Shusei recognizes the area where they are and his eyes immediately move to a certain mansion. Already from the street, he can see the demolished garden and the ugly graffiti on the house wall. He turns to the left, approaching the gate to the terrain. Right in front of the gate, he stops and looks up to the mansion. The request of the girl flashes through his mind. _I bet the principal won´t allow her to take the money…_ He feels the taller guy stop one or two meters behind him, also staring up to the white house.

"Is there something special about it?" the blond asks and there´s something weird in his voice.

"…Well, the daughter of the owner is a classmate of mine"

"…!"

"They don´t have the money to pay the renovations, since days before that incident they had changed their insurance. Today she asked me to check the 2nd years fund and if she could probably use the money"

"Is that so"

Shusei turns half around to him, watching his reaction. A weird guess starts to form in his mind. But then he frowns.

_No... Not such coincidences again…_

_...  
_

Hotsuma notices the strange way the smaller boy looks at him and he narrows his eyes. "You don´t think I was that, right?" he hisses.

The brunet only shrugs. "At least they have the money problem now… I wonder if they´ll be able to pay everything…"

"…"

"…"

"Can we change the topic?" he murmurs, visibly annoyed.

Shusei raises his eyebrows, but starts walking again. "Sure…"

...

At some point, Shusei finally gets aware of the direction they are walking in and he thoughtfully takes in the now slightly salty scent of the wind. It seems like they´re going down to the harbor. He even notices a few gulls flying high above him. His mood lightens a bit after the unfortunate conversation about the mansion. His eyes wander to the silent boy next to him. He seems to know perfectly where they´re walking to, but he doesn´t seem happy for some reasons. For a moment, he wants to ask him. But then he removes his eyes back to the street.

It´s not the right time.

...

"Are you sure we´re allowed to go here?" he asks him later, as they jump up a few old containers near the docks.

Hotsuma nods "I have been here already dozens of times"

After the containers, they climb up a rusty ladder to an old, flat warehouse. It´s not as high as those where he lives in, but it´s still high enough to have a great look over the harbor and Tokyo bay. The sky looks like it´s burning, it´s violet, orange, yellow and red. The orange flames of the sun slowly set into the ocean, which looks now like covered with gold. The gulls look black against the sky and a quiet sentience surrounds the two boys.

"So you like it?" he asks him in a low voice.

Shusei nods "Mmh. It´s nice"

He smirks in response "You probably wouldn´t have expected _me_ to know such a place, right?"

"…Maybe…"

They sit down at the edge and let their legs dangle. It really is a nice place to watch the sunset. From up there, the world looks so small.

Watching the big ships coming to Japan or setting for a journey round the world.

They know nothing else than this city.

Their city.

Although they both only know one side of it.

Two sides of the same city.

World.

Home.

There´s still so little they know.

...

Shusei unconsciously reaches one hand into his pocket and pulls out the chain. The ruby looks brilliant in the light of the setting sun. He sighs. He doesn´t regret coming to this place together with the pickpocket. It´s only that it´s already so long ago since he has enjoyed the sunset together with someone else. And of all people, it exactly happens to be _him_… The one who had been about to steal his wallet. The warm breeze moves his bangs and tickles his nose and cheeks. Suddenly, the guy next to him moves and he flinches.

"Sorry… I just can´t sit like that for a long time" Hotsuma mumbles.

He smiles wryly amused, but keeps silent.

"You know…" the blond continues.

"…?"

"It´s only that… Shit, ok, I admit it, I _am_ curious…"

"…About what?"

"The chain-"

"…!"

"But… As long as you don´t want to…"

"…"

"What I wanna say is… I know it´s none of my business…"

"…"

"If you want to… goddamn that sounds so stupid… well, if you ever want to talk about it… I´ll wait until then…"

"…"

"Fuck, just forget it!" He blushes and turns away from him.

But Shusei isn´t offended. He only looks at him blankly, wondering what has caused the taller boy to say something like that. Then he smiles quietly and returns his gaze to the harbor.

"Thanks…again"

"What?"

"Maybe…some day, I´ll tell you…"

"…Really?"

"I guess so…And then…you´ll tell me why you´re living on the street"

Hotsuma bites onto his lower lip. "It´s nothing great to talk about…"

"But I want to know" Shusei says calmly.

For a moment, neither says something. Then, Hotsuma shrugs "Ok with me…"

Their golden eyes meet and for a second they fully look at each other.

They start to _see_ each other.

There´re no smiles on their lips as they allow their gazes to meet. There´s only that agreement to wait for the other one to be ready to talk about the past.

Their pasts.

They´d both wait until the end.

And above them, the clouds are moving on.

* * *

**To be continued...**

**So, I hope you enjoyed^^ I know this chapter wasn´t full of action, but everything that is said in it, is important for the following chapters. I´ll try my best to deliver the next chap as soon as possible :)**

**BTW: I have no problems with the errors anymore^^ Thank God...**

**And to Sapphire Soulske again (sorry, but I want to answer all your questions^^):**

**I´m not really sad that the anime is over. To be honest, when I first heard of Uraboku getting an Anime, I expected it to suck, since the manga isn´t finished yet and at some point, the plot in the anime would change from the one in the manga. Still, I watched the episodes and found it ok, but nothing where I´d jump out from the bed or couch and scream or cry or whatever.**

**I started reading Uraboku because I love Odagiri-sensei´s art and because I was curious of her other works. But what really caught me and didn´t let me go anymore weren´t the hot guys but that special atmosphere in this story. For example, the chapters where Kuroto´s and Senshiro´s past is shown. The part where they´re still small and Kuroto was always alone, because his family didn´t want him and he didn´t want to be with someone else except from his dead partner. This part really made me cry, and that special atmosphere I could hardly feel in the anime. **

**Of course, the anime is a great alternative for those who can´t read the manga. The seiyuus are great (especially Luca, who has the voice of Cloud Strife and Shusei, who has the voice of Yagami Light) and the openings and endings are good. And sure, a few parts in it were great, but for me, it´s not really sad that it´s over. But are you sad that it´s over?**

**Well, anyway, please review^^  
**


	7. Brawl

**So, this is the next chapter. It´s a bit shorter, but I hope you still like it.**

**To Sapphire Soulske:**

**Yes, the other Zweilts live in the Tasogarekan and they´ll also get their screentime, but right now, Shusei and Hotsuma are more important^^ **

**Please enjoy :)**

**Disclaimer: I don´t own Uragiri wa boku no namae wo shitteiru.  
**

* * *

"Uhm…"

"…?"

"You…"

"…What is it?"

"About that classmate of yours…the girl who lives in the mansion with the demolished garden…"

"…Yeah?"

"Just forget it!"

He kicks a small rock out of his way and grimaces. But he regrets it immediately, since now his bruises start to hurt again. They walk through full shopping malls, like before without a real direction or destination. The smaller boy raises his eyebrows, but shrugs.

After a few minutes, Hotsuma grumbles and asks "How much is it?"

"…?"

"How much do the renovations cost?"

"Well…the damage amounts to over 1,5 million yen. Why?"

"…"

He frowns and doesn´t really know how to say it. But the remorse inside of him keeps nagging at him and he curses mentally. Now that he somehow has a connection to the victim of the last event, even though it´s only because Shusei knows that person, makes him feel a little bit guilty for what he has done. It forces him to realize that the gang's stupid 'revenge' has really made someone sad. He scratches the back of his neck. Then he parts his lips.

"I have an idea"

"Pardon?"

"How to get so much money"

"You mean for the mansion´s renovation?"

"Yes"

"And why…?"

Shusei looks up to him and his golden eyes show no emotion at all. But then he narrows them.

"So it _was_ you"

He stops walking, digging his bruised hands into his pockets. The brunet does so, as well.

"I didn´t do it alone"

...

Shusei feels his inside grow colder at those words. He remembers Tsukumo being shocked when it had happened at his worry about his sister Touko. He remembers his exhausted classmate. And the one whose fault it is stands right in front of him. He carefully thinks of what to say next. After all, he works with the police, so one option would be to just take him directly to the office. But something inside him immediately chokes at the thought. It´d be like _stabbing_ the pickpocket right from behind.

So he only sighs and asks "Why did you do that?"

"…Revenge"

"Revenge?"

"Honestly, do we have to talk about that in this place?" the blond hisses annoyed. And he feels a wave of distrust emanating from him. Without waiting for an answer, they move to an alley, hiding from the people on the shopping mall. The alley is quite narrow, so they both lean against the walls opposite each other, gazing at each other. The blond seems to fight with himself. And Shusei remembers their agreement at the harbor. So before Hotsuma can say a single word, he mutters "Just tell me…if you want to. I don´t want to force you to say it now or at all. Sorry"

The taller boy lets out a deep breath. "Alright"

"…"

"But… I want to pay the damage we caused back then"

"And how do you intend to get 1.5 million yen?"

"Will you help me?"

He blinks surprised.

_Is he serious? _

After all, they barely know each other. And he guesses that the blond has already more skeletons in his cupboard than _he_´ll ever have in his whole life. But he has decided to trust his judgment to know when he´ll be ready to tell him his past. And he guesses that the taller guy wouldn´t have asked, if it wasn´t necessary. He smirks wryly. "I won´t regret having said 'yes', right?"

Hotsuma grimaces "I hope not"

"Well… Ok, I´ll help you"

The golden eyes which are a few shades brighter than his seem relieved. "Then-"

"Hey! It´s him! I found him!" a completely unfamiliar voice shouts from the shopping mall.

...

Both boys turn their heads to the right, searching for the one who has shouted. Then Hotsuma jumps away from the wall and hisses "Fuck them…they found me!"

"Who-?"

"Run!" As he runs down the alley, movement gets into the people on the shopping mall. Shusei notices a group of youths heading towards them. "Run!" he hears Hotsuma shouting anew. Confused but aware of the upcoming trouble, he grips his schoolbag and bow and starts running after the blond.

...

"Who are they?" the smaller boy asks irritated, running next to him.

"I had... a few problems... with them…"

"…"

Hotsuma shoots him a furious glare "Don´t worry, I didn´t kill someone…"

"So?"

"I stole something from them…"

"…And what exactly?"

"Drugs" the pickpocket answers shortly. It seems like the brunet decides not to ask further and he thanks him mentally. And right now, they have a few other problems. Maybe two hundred meters behind them, the group of maybe ten boys around their age is running after them. All of them don´t look that friendly. Hotsuma clenches his hands into fists. Slowly, his legs begin to hurt. Already the past days he had to run from them. And now the brunet is with him, too! _Shit…_ What should he do?

...

It´s fine with Shusei to run for a long time, but he notices the blond getting more and more exhausted. And he´s the one who leads the two of them through this completely unfamiliar maze of alleys. But unfortunately, the group behind him seems to know those alleys just as good. And the gap between them gets smaller and smaller. They turn sharply around a corner and then the pickpocket stops running and pants heavily.

"Are you okay?" he asks the taller boy.

"Yeah…"

After a few seconds, the group of guys appears in the alley as well. They stop running, walking slowly now, eyes focused on them.

"Have you ever been involved in a brawl?" Hotsuma asks grimly.

"…Not really…" _I fought with demons, though…_

"Sorry about this, but I guess, this will be your first time then"

Shusei raises his eyebrows. "Ten versus two. Not really fair, right?"

"Wanna run away now?"

He smirks wryly "No"

...

Hotsuma shoots gazes that could kill instantly at the ten guys in front of them. The bruises on his cheekbones and hands are from all the little brawls the past days. Even for him it gets tough when there´re more than four people at the same time. And punching someone´s light off feels like hitting a wall out of concrete. It really fucking hurts. From the corners of his eyes he watches the smaller boy laying his stuff down. He looks so thin and fragile… and actually like a pacifist.

Someone like him, who does _Kyudo_, goes to a super expensive Highschool and lives in a castle-like mansion, simply _doesn´t look_ like someone who can fight with fists. But then he remembers his own attempt to knock him out. He had stopped his hand like it has been nothing. And a few minutes earlier, the brunet ran alongside with him and not once had he shown something like exhaustion. He frowns. 

_Wait…this really _is_ weird…_

But then he has no time to think anymore. The brawl begins.

...

It´s not like he is afraid of the group. It´s just that he has absolutely no experience of fighting with fists. He has never once been in a brawl, so now he´s a little insecure of what to do. To dodge the blows is no problem to him, but with every time the five guys miss him they seem to get angrier and angrier. Due to his height, he can´t really see what happens to the blond, but it doesn´t sound good.

"God, this fag starts to annoy me" one of the youths in front of him hisses and quickly moves forward.

Now Shusei definitely has enough, he slides to the side and after that he presses onto a certain acupuncture point at the back of the head of his opponent. Instantly, the guy looses conscious.

"W-what happened?" another one asks surprised.

"Dunno… let´s knock him down already!"

A few fast movements and the four others drift into unconsciousness. "Sleep well…" he smirks. Then his eyes move to the pickpocket and it feels like his blood stops flowing for a second.

...

'_Fuck! Shit! Go to hell!' His hands are all bruised and covered in blood, even though he doesn't know anymore if it´s his or someone else´s. His head hurts so much it feels like exploding. _

_"You´re gonna pay for the money you´ve stolen from us, asshole" one of the guys hisses. _

_"Look at yourself. It´s your fault for being so goddamn dumb to hide it in a place everyone knows…" _

_Next thing he knows is a fist ramming into his stomach. He chokes and next is a hard kick against his ribcage. Is there even a cracking sound? He spits blood out and his surroundings spins. "I´m so gonna kill you, I swear you…" _

_He moves backwards, stumbling and there´s a knife above him, aiming at his chest. _

_And he´s falling backwards._

_ Falling, falling, falling…_

_...  
_

His back collides with the ground and it feels like his ribs crack anew. He expects a knife to slice through his flesh, but suddenly, there´s a shadow above him. Small drops of blood fall down on his face. 

_No…_

Fear overwhelms him. 

_No. _

The shadow of the brunet doesn´t move. 

_No!_

"Shusei!"

The first time he has said his name aloud. And now the smaller boy turns his head to the side, his golden eyes staring at him. In front of him, the guys all fall to the ground and don´t move anymore.

"What the hell happened just know?"

...

They walk a few meters to get away from the unconcious group and Shusei helps him lean against a house wall. His hand bleeds slightly, but not much. It barely hurts. But the blond still seems concerned and he notices the guilt flashing through his eyes. He kneels down in front of him.

"Are you okay?" he asks softly.

"…Are ya crazy? You could've been killed! Have ya gone insane?" he snaps in response, frowning and shooting him furious looks. 

_Yeah, he´s alright… _"…Do your ribs hurt?"

"…A bit. But tell me what you´ve done to these guys! They´re all knocked out! And how did you appear in front of me so suddenly?"

Shusei carefully thinks about his answer. The pickpocket wouldn´t believe him anyway if he´d tell him that he´s a human with special abilities who uses to kick the asses of some demons. So he just sighs and says "I´ll tell you some day… Promise"

"…"

"…Hotsuma?" The taller boy flinches at the sound of his name. They both keep silent for a few moments.

But then the blond looks away and mutters "Why did you intervene?"

"…If I hadn´t, you´d be dead by now or at least heavily injured"

"That´s no reason!"

His sudden outburst surprises Shusei a bit. To be honest, he´s unsure about that, too. His body has somehow moved on its own.

"Now I owe you again" Hotsuma murmurs annoyed.

"You don´t, just think I did it out of friendship"

"But we´re no friends, right?"

At those words he falls silent. Actually, he´s right. But that fact disturbs him and there´s a slight stab in his chest. "Then let´s just be friends from now on, ok?" he smiles.

The pickpocket looks at him for a few seconds, maybe searching for a sign that he´s just kidding. But he´s serious. And the blond seems to notice. His lips curl into a half-hearted smirk.

"Alright. Friends from now on"

And above them, the stars seem to laugh.

* * *

**To be continued...**

**To be honest, I first planned this chapter a bit different, but then it turned out like this. The following chapters will be quite tough for their starting relationship, so why not first making them friends before it´s getting difficult for them? So I thought of a way they´d get friends. And this is my idea. Simply, right? But I hope the readers still found it ok^^**

**So, vacation starts tomorrow and I´ll be away for a week. After that I have to learn for exams, so I guess, the next update will come in maybe a month. Sorry about that :( But I can´t help it. **

**BTW: Does anyone know how to make/open (don´t know how to call it) a new fandom? I love the manga 'Seven Days' (BL of course) by V. Tachibana and the artist Takarai Rihito. I´d like to write a fanfic about it some day, but until now there´s no fandom. Can someone help please? :)**

**Anyway, Please review^^  
**


	8. Texas Hold em

**Sooooo, this is the next chap^^ Please enjoy :)**

**BTW: I´ve never once played Poker Texas Hold´em before, I only asked a friend of mine to explain it to me. It took around 20 minutes till I understood what the hell he was telling me. I made lots of notes, but I´m still not sure if everything´s right the way I described it in this chap. But I hope, no one will be mad because of that :)**

**And even though I said in the last chap that it´ll take around one month till the next update, I finished this in three weeks with exams in between. It seems like I can´t live without writing^^**

**BTW 2: 113 500 Yen are around 1000 Euro (I don´t know if that´s too much or to little to buy those Poker chips, though...)  
**

**Disclaimer: I don´t own Uragiri wa boku no namae wo shitteiru  
**

* * *

"Turning the signal would´ve been great just now…"

Shusei returns his attention to his driving instructor and mutters an apology.

"You´re unfocused today, Usui"

"Yes…I´m sorry…"

"You missed already one traffic light, two stop signs and you even tried to turn into a one way street in the wrong direction. Thank gods you didn´t drive faster than the speed limit at least"

"…Yeah…"

"Drive back to the driving school now, your lesson´s done for today"

"…Yes"

He tries to concentrate on the street, but his thoughts keep slipping away. Since the brawl, one week has passed. It´s Friday and only one more week until summer vacation. As he walks home from the driving school, his mind repeats their last conversation over and over again. And he can´t help but frown at himself.

...

"_Now that we took care of your ribs, would you mind finally telling me what kind of idea you have concerning the renovation costs?" he asks with a wry smirk. _

_"Do you know how to play Poker?" _

_"Poker? Why?" _

_"Yes or no?" _

_"…No" _

_"Well, I know a place where to play Poker and I´m gonna play and win" _

_"Are you that sure of yourself?" _

_"Yeah. But I need your help" _

_"…?" _

_"I need circa 113 500 Yen" _

_"And what for?" _

_"That´s for the chips to enter the round" _

_"That means you need rather my money than me…" _

_"Don´t get that wrong! Ok, yes, I need your money first, but I´ll pay it back and everything and you´ll even have more after I´ve won! Promise!" _

_"But it´s not really legal, I guess…?" _

_"…Uhm…" _

_He sighs. What has he gotten himself into again? "Okay, I´ll get the money, but if you lose…" _

_"I won´t lose!" _

_"… I guess I have to trust you then" _

_...  
_

They have decided to meet at a certain point near the place where they´re about to play Poker. Hotsuma stands in the shadow of a street lamp somewhere in a part of the district where no one lives anymore. He doesn´t move, so most of the few car drivers that drive past don´t even notice him. Except from the casual noises of busy Tokyo a few blocks away from him, he only hears the sound of the water splashing softly against the walls of the old waterway.

His golden eyes glow in the dark and his right hand unconsciously touches his sweater. He feels the tight bandage beneath, wrapped around his chest. He sighs and moves his gaze up to the sky. It´s violet, slowly getting dark blue now. Then he notices quiet steps on the dry pavement, approaching him. His head turns to the side to look at the brunet walking through the orange light of the street lamp. He only needs a moment to register how different he looks in normal clothes. It´s the first time he sees him like that.

More mature.

Maybe less innocent.

And a mysterious aura surrounding him.

And he looks… well, _even better _than in his school uniform. As their gazes meet, a small blush colors his cheeks, but it´s too dark for the smaller boy to see it. Or at least he hopes so. They greet each other with a quick nod. Then he gestures him to follow.

...

They stop right at the end of an alley, gazes locked on the old warehouse. It stands right at the brink of the waterway and part of the foundation walls have already sunk into the dark water. Now, the building looks a bit aslope. Shusei´s eyes narrow slightly. The entrance is guarded by two quite tall looking guys. And around the few stairs up to the opened door, people are standing, mostly smoking and talking. Men and women. The warehouse itself is fully enlightened, behind all the windows light is shining. Even some laughter can be heard out of the building.

His eyes move to the blond next to him. Hotsuma leans against the wall behind him.

"Where exactly are you playing Poker in there?" he asks.

"In the basement"

He raises his eyebrows. "And what´s with the water?"

"It´s not high enough to reach the table"

"And why in the basement?"

A smirk appears on his face. "To throw all those into the waterway, who lost"

He isn´t really sure if the taller boy is only making fun of him, but he decides not to want to know more about that.

"So…you have the money"

He only nods and points at his bag.

"Then…let´s go"

"…"

"And… stay behind me, okay?"

"…Sure…"

They change one last gaze and step out of the alley.

...

Hotsuma feels the people´s eyes on the two of them and tries not to look anxious or show any emotions at all. Though he´s used to it, his heartbeat still speeds up, sending his blood faster through his veins, always ready to fight or flee if it´s necessary. At the entrance, the two men step into the middle of the stairs, so there´s no way getting inside without their permission. But they don´t ask a single question, only looking straight into his eyes. And he doesn´t even blink, neither does he move his gaze away. After a few moments that feel much longer, the two step aside, barely nodding and allowing them to enter. Mentally, he lets out a small relieved sigh.

But it´s not over yet.

Not at all.

...

They get through the entrance area without problems and he feels at least a bit at ease to see a few people nodding more friendly into Hotsuma´s direction, like they´d recognize him. Then he follows the blond into the first hall. And there it´s loud, uncomfortably warm due to so many sources of body heat and on top of all, full with people.

People around tables where they play Roulette, people standing in front of the bright blinking one-armed bandits, people around the tables where they play Baccarat or Black Jack, people at the tables to play Sic Bo.

But as the blond has said before, there´s nowhere a Poker round in sight. But at the end of the hall, there´re a few doors and stairs leading upstairs and downstairs. His 'Eyes of Gods' immediately narrow. A few of those doors lead into the private offices or rooms of the employees. And in the basement there´s the place where they´ll play Poker or at least Hotsuma will play.

"Hotsuma?"

"Yeah?"

"How long do those Poker rounds take?" he asks, looking at his watch.

"Dunno. But after four hours of playing, there´s a break"

"And when did the last round start?"

"Don´t ask me, I really don´t know"

"…"

He takes out his cell to check his messages and to turn it off after that. Suddenly, he notices the blond´s eyes on him.

"What is it?" he asks.

"Well… are you going to…"

"…"

"Are you going to… damn it…"

"…?"

"Jeez, what I wanna ask is… are you staying here…the… whole time?" he asks and a blush creeps over his face.

The question surprises him, but his expression gets a little bit softer. "I´ll stay as long as you want me to stay" he answers quietly. His eyes are locked on his cell, so he doesn´t see the flash of happiness in the golden eyes of his friend. And after that, they start heading towards the stairs.

...

He carefully watches that he always feels the presence of the smaller boy behind him, as they search for a way through the crowd. They don´t move fast, so they wouldn´t attract any attention, but still he notices sharp eyes following each of their steps, scanning their movements and their reactions. Even though, he´s used to that already, he can´t help but feel so defenseless in that moment. His pulse quickens. That´s the feeling of being watched so intently that it´s almost frightening. Actually, _he_´s the one to do the staring and watching in the dark alleys of Tokyo, not others. He clenches his fists.

He hates it.

Truly hates it.

...

Downstairs, there´s only one table. Six guys are sitting there already, barely looking up as they walk over to the counter to buy the chips to enter. Down here it´s cool and quiet, only the disturbing sounds from above shatter the silence. And of course, except from the dealer, calling out those, whose turn it is. Shusei studies each of the players intently, but the sudden splashing of water distracts him. A few meters behind the table, dark water licks at the old walls and now he can scent the slight metallic and brackish odor.

"We have to wait until they´ve all made their turns, only then I can join" Hotsuma whispers.

They move to the bar, but they don´t order something.

"What kind of Poker is that, by the way?" the brunet asks in a low voice.

"Texas hold´em. Actually pretty easy. Shall I explain you the rules?"

"No… no need"

"So you´ll try figuring it out just by watching?" the blond asks wryly smirking. But the excitement and nervousness is evident in his eyes.

"Hmmh"

They watch the six players for a short while. Then the dealer collects the cards. Not sure of what to say to him now, he only smiles silently at him. And the blond seems to understand. Then he walks over to the table, leaving him behind.

...

But after around three and a half hours, he notices the blond getting more and more uneasy. The way he glances at the other players becomes more concerned with each round that passes.

_He loses… _

His chin rests in his palm, as he watches the seven guys at the table. He sits on one of the old sofas that stand at the walls for those, who´re watching the game. Suddenly he flinches slightly, as the dealer announces a break of 45 minutes and the players all stand up, most of them heading upstairs, to the bar or to their accompanists, who have been watching the game just like him. He looks up to the blond as he approaches him, his eyes dark with anger. Without a word, he sits down next to him.

For a few minutes, neither of them says a word, but then the taller mutters "Sorry…"

"…You don´t need to apologize"

"But I lost almost all of your money"

He looks at him from the corners of his eyes. "…I said that I´d trust you" is everything he replies.

"…Are you regretting saying that?" Hotsuma asks and this time his voice holds a hint of foreboding, almost imperceptible.

"Only if you´re going to make me regret it"

...

His eyes are focused on his cards, but from time to time he glances over at the other players, seeking for any signs if they have bad cards, good ones or if they´re going to bluff or anything. It´s almost twelve o´clock. He notices the first signs of fatigue. And sadly, he has no luck at all tonight. He glares at the three cards in front of the dealer. The Big Blind Button is already full with chips.

"Race" says one of the players and raises the stakes anew. Turn after turn. He always has to do "Bet" by knocking on the table to show that he doesn´t want to raise the stakes. His mountain of chips has decreased a small hill. He waits for his turn to have good cards. But it´s only getting worse. It´s uncomfortably warm in this basement now and the lack of fresh air makes his mind fuzzy. He has only one chance left to win. To bluff and go All-in. But if the player notice his bluff… well, then their or rather Shusei´s money will be gone and this everything would´ve been for nothing. But the risk to lose his high and he can´t decide what to do. Still, he tries to hide his anxiety as much as he can. And after a while, he notices two amber eyes directly looking at him. Calling silently for his attention.

...

He raises his eyes a little and returns the gaze inquiringly. The smaller boy doesn´t move at first.

But then he lifts one finger.

Only a little bit, but so much that he notices it. No one else does, because no one else bothers looking at them.

'_Only one more round' _

That´s the meaning of it. As answer he moves his eyes down to the rest of his chips and then up again, head slightly turned to the Big Blind Button. And the brunet nods. But the doubt rings through his mind. If it was his money, he´d do it. But it´s not his and the hell he´ll lose so much money of the first person in years who he can call a friend. The uncertainness is probably evident in his eyes, because the emotionless expression in Shusei´s face softens a bit and he smiles. Only a small smile, but there´s warmth in his eyes, warmth and trust, and his doubts disappear.

No matter how it´ll end, he won´t be afraid of losing, because there´s so much more he has won tonight already.

...

Shusei watches him and after a few moments, he hears his clear voice "All-In"

...

"I can´t believe it" he says unbelievingly and almost impressed. "You really won"

"Yeah! With a 'Royal Flash'! That´s the rarest combination of cards you can have in 'Texas Hold´em'! Holy shit!"

His voice is full of joy and Shusei can´t help but chuckle a little. The blond carries the bag full of money.

"And at first you had so bad cards… But due to your bluffing they all backed down in the end. I´ve never once thought that something like that would happen…"

They walk away from the warehouse at the old waterway. Uncertain of their destination, they just try to find back to some places they know. Suddenly, he notices some shadows move at the corner behind them. But he can´t sense any Duras. He narrows his eyes and feels the slow steps following them. Hotsuma doesn´t seem to notice, he still bathes in his glorious victory.

But all of the sudden, the grin vanishes from his face. They gazes meet again and without any words, they know each other's thoughts. The blond starts to count mentally and Shusei understands.

_'3' _

Their own steps get faster.

_'2'_

The people behind them get closer, but are still hidden in the dark.

_'1'_

They both glance back.

'_Now'_

And together, they run.

* * *

**To be continued...**

**I hope you enjoyed^^**

**Holy crap, I read a novel by one of my favorite writers David Levithan ('Nick & Nora's Infinite Playlist) and the novel is called 'Boy meets Boy'. I´ve NEVER EVER read such a cute, realistic and romantic story with a gay protagonist. I loved that story so much 'gyyyaaaahhh!' Honestly, if you have the chance to read, READ it!**

**I just wanted to say that^^**

**So, anyway, Please Review :)**

**And a HAPPY HALLOWEEN to all of you!**

**I LOVE Halloween!  
**


	9. Drive through the Night

**Wow, I can´t believe I update again so soon. But here´s the new chap^^ **

**Please enjoy :)**

**Shino159:**

**Yes, it´s an english book, but I don´t think you´ll have any problems understanding it^^  
**

**BTW: I hope this chap isn´t too confusing. The italicized parts are flashbacks.**

**Disclaimer: I don´t own Uragiri wa boku no namae wo shitteiru.  
**

* * *

The high-risers are only blurred, grey images at the corners of his sight, as he focuses his eyes on the street and especially on the traffic, so he wouldn´t just crash into another car. The blond next to him grits his teeth and watches the cars behind them through the driving mirror. He can tell how upset he is. And he is, too. This is no fun anymore.

Well, if it ever was.

...

_The adrenaline keeps floating into his veins, but the frail joy of being chased dissipates with every step he takes through the dark alleys. The anger darkens his eyes. He has never expected it to turn into this kind of hunt. He has been the one to take him to that goddamn place, so he has intended to get him out of there with all his limbs, healthy and most importantly, without a bunch of gang members, cops or security guards running after them. And here they´re now, out of breath and a whole fucking bunch of gang members behind them, greedy eyes locked on his bag with the money. Suddenly they hear some garbage bins crash and spread their contents over the pavement. They both turn around, alerted. _

_"Shit! Run!" he hisses in the same moment he notices the Jeep. It´s not the police… But certainly also people, who´re after them. Worst is, as they both flinch at the sound of some guns shooting. His heart beats painfully fast against his ribcage. _

_No._

_ This shit was never meant to happen. _

_Not tonight. _

_Not tonight, since he just… _

_He clenches his hands into fists and feels his nails digging deep into his skin. _

_Why tonight?_

_...  
_

He doesn´t know where they´re driving to. Everything he knows is that they have to drive till the two Jeeps behind them finally give up on chasing them. They´re already out of Tokyo, but he has lost some sense of time during the hours. He´s somewhere on a freeway, his vague destination for now is Yokohama. The blond next to him is unbelted, but he doesn´t mention it. There´s a thick silence between them, and simple words wouldn´t even get through it.

The freeway isn´t full, they have enough space between them and other cars or trucks, but like that, the two Jeeps get closer and closer. His foot is locked on the gas pedal and he guesses that even he wanted to, he wouldn´t get his foot off it. He returns his eyes to the driving mirror. He sees the malicious smile on the people´s faces. He feels their greed, even though all he can do is look at them. And then he has an idea.

...

"You´re insane" Hotsuma mutters, his face shows the same distrust as in the beginning. His expression is aloof and reserved, as if they had just met. The lights from the freeway move into the distance.

"Maybe" he answers and throttles a bit.

...

"_Hell, what´re you doing?"The voice of the taller boy sounds exasperated. He doesn´t give any reply, as he continues to slow down. The Jeeps behind them drive slower as well and he gestures them through the driving mirror that he wants to pull over to the right side. His fingers clench around the steering-wheel. Only fifty meters to the next exit. And in the moment the Jeeps stop behind them, he speeds up and at full throttle, he turns into the exit. The tires squeak in torture, as he passes the speed limit. The blond glares at him._

_...  
_

It´s almost three o'clock in the morning. They continue their way through the dark to a place where they can stay for the rest of the night. Shusei notices the first signs of his fatigue, but he ignores it, as the minutes in the stolen car feel like endless years. He sighs mentally and avoids looking at the blond.

He´s glad that there´re only a few cars on the street at this hour, but he hates it that those don´t turn off their high beams as they pass. It stabs painfully in his eyes and every time it happens, the pickpocket next to him flinches and his body clenches almost violently.

His chin rests in his palm, but his other hand digs into the seat, fingers almost tearing the fabric. It always takes a couple of minutes until he relaxes his muscles again. He looks like completely lost in his thoughts.

"Well... they should actually turn off their high beams whenever they pass a car at night" he says, maybe more to himself than to the blond.

Only a few words to break the silence between them, because the silence feels cold. Cold and hurt. He waits for an answer, but Hotsuma does no attempt to answer at all, so he gives up on it. Stupid idea.

But after a long, long while, his voice creeps out from the depths of his throat, husky and full of emptiness.

"The police never turn off the high beams… That´s why…"

That´s why.

That´s why he flinches like a hounded animal every time the high beams of a car hit his eyes, his face, his body. He doesn´t know what to answer. But the taller boy doesn´t seem to expect an answer. So he remains silent.

...

He feels his pupils narrow every time he bright, blending lights appear in front of them. Every time he wants to jump and run away, hide in the dark till the light is gone. But he can´t. Every time he wants to close his eyes, wait till the high beams have passed. But he can´t, because then his body screams in fear of not seeing his surrounding anymore.

He remembers so many nights like this one, running away from the light, the noise of the police sirens everywhere, in every street, reaching into every alley there is. His body remembers the exhaustion, the bruises, the joy, the fear, the high, the pain.

Nowhere and everywhere to run.

Everywhere and nowhere to stay.

To rest.

To belong to, maybe, only maybe, only a place to belong to.

That is his real life.

But what´s the point in saying it loud?

...

It´s not like he blames the smaller boy next to him. It had been his idea to go to the warehouse at the old waterway. But he curses himself for bringing him there.

He still hears the bullets crash into the road, the pavement and the house walls, so close to them, as they run away.

Way too close.

...

He lays down into the moist and cold grass. The chill runs down his spine as the coldness of the night hits his skin. Yet, it cools off his mind and he takes a deep breath from the clean air. They´ve stopped somewhere near a motel, or at least they can see the roof of a motel between the trees. He´d rather describe their surroundings as a small forest.

He stares up to the dark blue sky and the millions of stars sparkling down to him. He hears the brunet approaching and sitting down into the grass next to him. Time feels so slowly now. They don´t talk except from one time as Shusei asks him if he´s still mad. And he shakes his head and answers that he isn´t anymore.

...

His fingers feel the moist grass, as he leans back on his hands. It´s so silent around them. He moves his gaze up to the stars. They look so close from here, as if he could just reach his hand out and touch them.

So close… They feel so close.

Close to the silence around them in this small forest within one of the biggest cities in this world.

"Hey… Shusei" the blond in front of him suddenly murmurs.

"…?"

"Ya know… Since I met you, I´ve started looking at the sky again"

He looks at him from the corners of his eyes. "And why?"

And the answer is barely more than the cool breeze that caresses the green grass beneath them. "Maybe… with you, it looks better"

...

His cell buzzes and they both flinch slightly. He slides his hand into his pocket and takes the vibrating thing out. Tsukumo is calling him.

"Sorry" he mutters before he answers.

"Shusei?" The voice of the younger boy sounds a little worried.

"Yes, it´s me…"

"I didn´t hear you coming home, so I waited…"

"Tsukumo, it´s almost four o´clock in the morning. I´m fine, so you can go to sleep now" he says.

"Yeah… But, Shusei…"

"…?"

"You will come back, right?"

He smiles at those words. "Why shouldn´t I?" he asks back and he can clearly picture the face of the white haired boy.

...

Hotsuma watches Shusei intently as he answers the call. He watches him smiling. He frowns and his eyes darken a tiny bit. But there´s no reason to, actually. He sighs.

Since the smaller boy has a different life than he has. A life he doesn´t have and doesn´t know. A life where he´s only a small part of.

"I´ll be back tomorrow…" the brunet murmurs. Then there´s a pause while he´s listening.

"Don´t worry. I´m not alone"

And then he hangs up.

...

"What´s with him?" the guy behind the counter asks suspicious and nods into Hotsuma´s direction.

Shusei glances at him for a moment. The blond has turned his face to the side, clearly avoiding the eyes of the man.

"He´s just tired" he says to the guy.

"There´s only one room free. Here´re the keys. Do you want to pay now or… today afternoon or so?" he asks bored.

"Now"

He pays the fee and takes the slightly rusty keys from the motel owner.

"No 8. Will you find it by yourself?"

"I guess so…"

"Well then… Good night" He waves them out of his small office.

...

It has gotten pretty cold outside, as they try to find the No 8. He´s already too tired to find it strange that the brunet finds their room and especially the keyhole in no time, even though there´re no lights outside the motel. They enter the small apartment… and both raise their eyebrows.

The furniture isn´t the problem. Ok, it looks more than old, rather antique, and the wall paper comes off the walls already. The carpet isn´t white anymore, more gray-brown and they don´t want to know what the people have done with and on this carpet already. But that´s not the problem, either.

It´s-

"I´ll sleep on the floor" they both mutter at the same time.

They look at each other.

"_I_´ll sleep on the floor" Hotsuma says and frowns.

"No, I will" the brunet replies.

"C´mon, I´m used to sleep on the floor"

"Just another reason to let you sleep in the bed"

He rolls his eyes. "Listen, it´s no big deal…"

"No"

"But-"

"I´m the older one of us" Shusei emphasizes.

He runs a hand through his blond locks. He´s too exhausted to argue, even though he isn´t in the mood to give up already. They glare at each other, unwilling to give in.

...

As Hotsuma finally steps out of the bathroom, the smaller boy sits on the edge of the bed, barefoot and his hair still moist. He seems to feel cold in his thin clothes. He glances at the heater in one corner of the room.

"It´s broken" Shusei says, following his gaze.

He moves his eyes back to the brunet. He doesn´t look like he has changed his opinion towards the bed. But he wouldn´t ever forgive himself for letting Shusei sleep on the dirty floor.

"So…" he starts.

"I´ll sleep on the floor" the brunet repeats.

"No, I will and that´s it. Or we´ll both sleep on that manky carpet, ´cause that´s possible, too" he shoots back.

And the smaller boy doesn´t answer. He seems to think about - "Then let´s just both sleep in the bed"

"What the-?"

"Don´t worry, I don´t need much space" he says with a wry smirk.

He raises his eyebrows at the idea. But that´d be the best option after all. Neither of them would have to sleep on the ground, then.

"Ok…but…"

"…?"

"You´ll wear my shirt, ´cause I don´t want to stay awake all night, watching you freezing to death, got it? And I won´t take 'No' as a response" he says grimly.

To underline his words, he throws his blue-black checkered lumberjack shirt with the black hood to his friend. Latter catches it.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah"

...

"When are we going to drive back?" the blond asks later, turning his head to his right to look at Shusei next to him. Their money is safely hidden beneath their bed and they´ve locked the apartment.

"When we´re awake again" he replies quietly, switching the light off.

Now it´s complete dark around them. They lie facing each other and they feel the breath of the other on the skin. But it doesn´t feel uncomfortable. He wears the lumberjack shirt and secretly, he thanks him for giving it to him for tonight. It´s soft and warm and his scent lays deep within.

"Hey, Shusei…"

His amber eyes look into the blond´s blind light golden ones. His 'Eyes of Gods' can see through the darkness, so he could study him as much as he wants to. But not tonight. Not now.

"Yes?"

"…forget it, good night"

"…Good night"

No.

It really doesn´t feel bad.

Sharing the bed, the room, the night, the time together.

And before he falls asleep he notices how slow time feels tonight.

* * *

**To be continued...**

**Sooo, I hope you liked it^^ **

**BTW: I admit it, I love guys who wear lumberjack shirts. And I thought it´d fit Hotsu´s pale skin and blond hair ;)**

**Please review :)  
**


	10. Who are You? Who is You?

**Wow, the tenth chap already...**

**Well, please enjoy^^**

**Disclaimer: I don´t own Uragiri wa boku no namae wo shitteiru.  
**

* * *

It feels like the time has stopped in the small motel room they share. Only the sounds of arriving and departing cars and trucks on their way through whole Japan disturb the calm silence. It´s afternoon already and the soft light of the beginning dawn seems to bathe the room in a tender golden glow, which would match their eyes perfectly, if they´d open them.

But they don´t.

...

As he finally wakes up, he feels like he has slept better than in all those weeks before. Even though he lies in a foreign bed in a somewhat dirty motel room with a clammy blanket and dusty windows, he feels… rested. Maybe it´s only because he isn´t there alone.

He moves a bit to get a better view at his wristwatch. Half past six p.m. At the same time, he gets aware of an unfamiliar weight somewhere on his side. A hand lies there. He turns over to his other side and notices the blond´s arm resting around him. Not in a possessive manner. More like… wanting to keep the truth that he isn´t alone anymore.

Now, he can watch him quietly and his lips form a light smile as he notices how peaceful Hotsuma looks like when he´s asleep. And the earrings make him look kinda rebellious at the same time. His smile disappears and his expression becomes thoughtful and yet restless.

_Have I really found you?_

His eyes return to the bare arm wrapped almost tentatively around his waist. It´s the left arm. And it´s full of thin silver lines. Also a few down on his wrist. All scars caused by himself.

_Or are you someone else?_

Carefully, really, really carefully and slowly he touches one of the in a very morbid way beautiful scars. The younger boy doesn´t wake up. Doubt is written all over Shusei´s pretty features.

_You never would´ve done something like this before… cutting yourself…hurting yourself… And… if it really isn´t you… am I betraying you right now?_

His amber eyes reflect the image of the pickpocket. But does he _see_ someone else when he looks at him? He closes his eyes again. Imagining the pain that´d rush over the face of the blond when he´d tell him. And the thought that he´d be the one who has caused him so much sorrow. And yet…

_Is it really okay to ask you…? _Can_ I ask you? Or is it too selfish?_

_...  
_

He wakes up and first thing he sees is the brunet lying next to him, facing him with his bangs falling into his eyes and a sense of calm overcomes him. With a small blush he notices his left arm wrapped around the smaller boy, but latter doesn´t seem to mind in his sleep. So he keeps his arm where it is and studies the elder while he´s asleep. His hands are resting right next to his cheek and his shoulders look even thinner in the lumberjack shirt which is a few sizes too big. He doesn´t look like a seventeen-year-old Highschool student like this. The brunet looks younger now, younger and vulnerable.

_I wonder… who exactly you are…_

The scenes where the older boy has proven so often that he isn´t just a mere student keep repeating themselves in his mind. Like the time he has protected him of the gang member who had been about to stab him with a knife. Or when he himself had been running from him with latter´s wallet in the hand and how the brunet has followed him without any signs of exhaustion. And the way he has treated him. Not like the police do. The police treat those who live as criminals not nicer than homeless dogs.

But Shusei has treated him… like a human.

_What was your reason…?_

Suddenly, something catches his attention. A thin black chain resting beneath the brunet´s clothes, hardly to see, but he has noticed it though. He blinks curiously. He carefully removes his hand from its place on the other´s waist and pulls the light chain out. And his heart skips a beat.

_What the-?_

He recognizes the chain. It´s the same he had stolen from him the night he had stayed at his place. But no, it´s not exactly the same. In the middle of the black cross there´s not a glowing red ruby but a golden, softly shining amber, so similar to his eyes. He doesn´t know why, but his heart aches at the sight.

_I promised not to ask you…_

He puts the necklace back to its place, eyes narrowing in anxiety and agitation.

_The chain I took that night…belongs to someone else, right?_

He sits up, one hand running through his messy locks.

_Someone who is important to you…_

_...  
_

"_Takashiro? Why does he not remember? His last wish before dying hasn't been reincarnating as a human without memories of this life…_his_ life" _

_"We can only speculate about that…" _

_"…" _

_"We guess that he lives somewhere in Tokyo, but it´s not proofed that he lives on the street…" _

_"…" _

_"But if he does… would it not be even more painful if he´d know about his life as a Zweilt?" _

_"…" _

_"If it was you, Shusei… wouldn´t you want to forget about something that causes you even more pain? Like memories where you lose your comrades and friends in a battle against cruel and violent demons…again and again" _

_"…" _

_"You´d want to forget about it, too, right? If you were in the same situation..."_

_...  
_

As they drive back, it´s quiet silent in the car. Each keeps quiet, deep in thought and eyes moving to the far horizon again and again. But how breaking the silence when both aren´t sure what they want to know.

_If t_hey want to know.

Either way, maybe someone will get hurt.

...

He carefully places the bag with the money in front of the front door of the mansion. And on top of the bag, he lays a small note. _'Sorry' _is written there. He steps back, frowning and then glancing at the brunet standing at the other side of the gate, watching him. He digs his hands into his pockets and walks back to him, eyes looking down to the ground. They´ve brought the car already back to the place they have taken it from. And now there is no reason anymore to still hang around with each other.

So, does it mean, going back to his old so-called '_life'_? Living in the cave of an old warehouse, smoking joints, fucking cutting himself, stealing other people´s wallets and spraying graffiti at night? Not that it would change if he´d still meet the smaller boy from time to time. But maybe… it´d chase the loneliness he feels so often away.

But how could he tell him that he wants him to stay in his life? Maybe be even a part of it. Well, if the brunet is up to that. Since he is just a mere pickpocket living in the dirty alleys of Tokyo who tries every day not to starve and whose only joy is causing as much trouble as he can.

_Yet, you asked me to be friends with me…_

_...  
_

He stops walking. They stand somewhere in a park beneath a big tree, which´s shadow hides them perfectly and offers them some coolness from the heat of the evening. No one looks at them and they silently watch the many people that pass. It´s a weird feeling like viewing the world from outside.

And it´s only the two of them and they _see_ each other.

How can one say 'I don´t want you to go' without saying 'I don´t want you to go'?

...

He knows the blond only for a few weeks, but it feels longer to him, and much deeper than with any other of his friends. His amber eyes move up to the sun and the light that breaks through the roof out of leaves above him hits his face in silver and green rays. Only one more week until he has summer vacation. And then… he´d maybe have plenty of time to spend with Hotsuma.

He leans against the log and lets out a quiet sigh, unsure of what to say. He can feel what is lingering around them and what makes it so hard to get through the silence. They think about each other, yet don´t know who the other is. _Who_ they´re supposed to _see_ when they look at each other.

_Am I feeling _you_ or him?_

_...  
_

"Hey… Shusei" he mutters, his heart beating hard against his ribcage. His fingers claw into the log behind him, feeling the rough surface. The smaller boy doesn´t answer. And he can´t see his eyes right now, because his eyes are focused on the dry grass in front of him.

He waits a bit, not really sure if he wants an answer or not. Then he parts his lips and continues. "Ya know-"

"Hotsuma" the brunet interrupts him with the calm voice of his.

He blinks inquiringly.

"I know what you want to say"

A blush creeps over his pale cheeks and he rips part of the bark off.

"And before you say it…"

Suddenly, he has a very strange feeling about this and his heartbeat gets slower. And it stops and starts to hurt at the same time as the sound of those words reach his ears.

"I got to tell you something first, because…"

"…"_ I don´t want to hear it! _

"…Because after that… maybe you don´t want to look at me anymore…"

* * *

**To be continued...**

**To be honest, I thought quite long abou this chapter. It wasn´t that easy to write and I still hope that the way Shusei and Hotsuma act is and feels still In-Character for them. **

**But well, the plot picks up now and here I wanna reveal a small secret: **

**Actually, this story was set for four to five chapters. Now there´re already ten and it´s maybe only half of the plot until now. **

**But unlike with my old Uraboku fic, I still enjoy writing this story really much, even though school and life is quite tough right now. But my dear readers keep encouraging me with their lovely reviews. So thank you all so much for your support :) **

**But since this is the tenth chap, I´d like to ask all of you how you think about the plot so far, maybe what kind of wishes you have concerning the storyline and maybe what kind of things you don´t like.  
**

**The second part of 'Streetfire' will contain definitly more drama and plot (and more screentime of the other Zweilts) and therefore I kinda need to know how the readers feel about this story and so on.**

**So, please Review^^  
**


	11. Apart

**Hi^^ The eleventh chap is out!**

**And thanks for all your reviews! It seems like the readers are still quite content with this story and I´m so very glad about it^^  
**

**And yes, I have a beta now :) Thousand thanks for your great work, bloody-miss-alice :)**

**BTW: This chap is completely written out of Hotsuma´s Point of View.  
**

**Disclaimer: I don´t own Uragiri wa boku no namae wo shitteiru or any lyrics by 12 Stones.  
**

_

* * *

The sun has almost disappeared behind the horizon already, when the brunet is finished talking. And everything he has told him has sounded like __a damn, horrible, ridiculous script of a damn, horrible, ridiculous fantasy movie. The smaller boy waits for an answer, he can tell. And he hits the log with his fist and almost laughs as he says "Well. Shit happens" _

_...  
_

He hits the wall once. It hurts.

He hits it twice and his skin gets bruised.

He hits the wall until his knuckles bleed and the crimson warmth drips down onto the dark ground, colouring it dark-red. The wall is already covered with visible spots where he has hit the rough surface. But he doesn't stop.

...

_He watches him from the corners of his eyes, his face still turned to the tree in front of him. The amber eyes of Shusei gaze at him, emotionless as always. Yet, something in his expression shifts like a shadow passing over his pale skin. _

_"You don't believe me, __do you?" he mutters with his voice barely a whisper and hiding what he's thinking. But the sound feels more distant than ever before. A smirk forms on his lips, but he finds it harder and harder to breath, to let the air flow in and out of his lungs since there's now this damn intense and almost unbearable wish to scream and yell and _scream_. _

_"Is it that obvious?" he replies nevertheless, his voice full of poignant sarcasm. _

_The pickpocket is back. _

_Well, has he ever gone away? _

_...  
_

He wants to break something.

He wants to see thousands and thousands of shards cover the ground.

He wants to destroy something, anything, it doesn't matter what it is. His surroundings have become black and white. He doesn't recognize them anymore. After many, many seconds, minutes, hours, he can't tell, his body moves on its own, fulfilling this desperate wish inside of him. His bloody hand clenches into a fist and hurts and the next thing he knows are so many, many shards falling down on him, sparkling like pretty little diamonds, but cutting small small wounds into his skin in a funny looking way and it burns and burns and _burns_.

...

"_You really __don't believe me" the smaller guy sighs. He grimaces and turns around to him. _

_"Oh, c'mon, have ya heard yourself even _talking_? Demons? Reincarnation? Battles? Hell? Have ya gone insane?" he snaps, not even really sure why he's so upset about it._

_But something feels so very terrible wrong to him, he just doesn't know what exactly it is. _

_...  
_

He wants to erase his memories of the boy so badly, but every time he shuts his eyes and digs his nails into his own skin, he sees his image again and again and again, and not only his, also the images of his family, his mother, his father, his brother, his friends. All the images of those he has left behind.

Those who have left _him_ behind.

He grits his teeth so hard his jaw hurts. The images look strange, so old and abused in his mind. Images being seen from a perspective of an outsider, seeing a life he has never lived.

...

"_So… does it mean __I'm only a replacement?" _

_Those words slip out of his mouth before he can stop them. The brunet, who has just been about to say something, stiffens in motion and his eyes get colder. So cold. So far away. Moving so far away from him. _

_"So I'm right? You're… you're seeing your old friend in me?" he continues and he knows that he hurts his opposite, but he doesn't stop. His own pain outweighs it._

_ "…"_

_ The-answer-that-is-no-answer-but-yet-is-an-answer feels like a wave of icy water drowning his fire inside, until nothing is left anymore except the gray ashes of what he has believed in before. Firmly held onto. And now everything is gone. _

_Again._

"_Fuck you" he hisses and turns around, wanting to get as far away as he can. The park is almost empty now. But he has only made a few steps when a warm hand suddenly grips his elbow, stopping him. _

_"Let go" he says in a very low voice, but his whole body shudders with rage already. _

_"Listen, you're not a replacement to me" Shusei replies and amber eyes are boring into his. _

Don't look at me when you're not seeing me…

_"Let go!" _

_"Not until you'll listen to me!" _

_"I said let go!" _

_He turns around to him, jerking his arm violently free and faster than a normal eye could see, he hits the brunet with his fist, right on the cheekbone where the skin is thin and where it does hurt. _

_Both of them. _

_"Ya know what? Until now, my life has been nothing but a horrible damn joke! And this – you – was the most laughable of all!" _

_Shusei's face is still turned to the side, but the red bruise is already evident on his pale skin. And without another word, he runs away. And this time, the elder boy doesn't follow him. _

_...  
_

For three whole years he has never allowed himself to feel so much again that it would take control over him. But tonight he crossed the border he's always watched from close, from afar, his emotions inside him locked away in a common grave. The sky above him is black and empty as if even the stars and the moon have turned away from him.

'It starts with pain, followed by hate'

He's beaten up two times. It's his fault, because he initiates them and provokes them. A few of the guys who beat the hell out of him even know him. For a very short second he sees something like the last bit of human concern in their eyes. But then it vanishes. Here, the only thing you can do for a person in order to comfort him, is to beat him up, to cause him pain. Since on the street, there's nothing else left but this ancient feeling you're still able to feel, this oldest emotion of all emotions that makes you sure you're still alive.

But it's not enough.

Not nearly.

His back leans against the wall of an old apartment building. A few apartments are still inhabited, but most are empty, with broken windows and garbage piling up in the rooms no one has cared to clean up in years. The blood on his hands starts to dry, but his face is bruised and his ribs hurt. He bites onto his lower lip and there's the familiar salty and metallic taste. The fire inside him burns up again, hotter than anything you could imagine, and darker than the sky above.

He wants to hate him so badly. He wants to hurt him. Hurt him like _he_ has hurt him.

_Tell me, why…`?_

For one moment he has dared to believe that he has done something _right_. For one moment he has been about to _open up_ again. For one moment he has tried to _feel_ again. But _he_ has shattered it again. _Everything. _

_Let me forget…just once… just now._

His eyes move slowly to his left arm. He grits his teeth. He remembers the cool fingers moving over his skin. He remembers his touch. He remembers his warmth that is neither warm nor cold.

Never warm or cold.

'_A last fleeting summer breeze at the end of September'_

His right hand clenches around the shard he has taken with him. The blood flows down his arm in red rivers, dripping onto his clothes. He slides down the wall and he feels dizzy due to the loss of blood. But he doesn't stop. His arm is covered in wounds, he doesn't mind reopening old ones or cutting through those who have just started to heal. He can't stop, even as his hand is too slippery and too tired to hold the crimson blade.

_Not enough… I want to forget…_

And he sees only _his_ face, not with a smile, without any emotion there could have been and his chest hurts so much. So much… His heart feels like its crying.

But he has no tears left.

…_only a replacement…_

Instead he holds the shard higher. It sparkles in the light of a close streetlamp, like the pathetic attempt to copy the character of a star without ever having seen one. Without ever having felt one.

…_let me forget…_

He pierces the rough blade right into his upper arm, there where weeks ago the hands, _his_ hands, have touched him. His body starts to shake. His exhausted hand lets the bloody shard fall to the ground.

He bites into his right wrist and a long, desperate scream fights its way out of his throat. He screams like he has only screamed once before in his life, and his voice remembers the pain, the heat and the fear. Even though the sound is drowned by his wrist, it's loud and the wind carries the feelings away.

But no one wants to listen.

No one wants to know.

No one cares.

…_the night… three years ago… has never ended…_

And somewhere, a house starts to burn.

...

_I've lost all my will _  
_This has been haunting me way to long _  
_And I can't rewind _  
_I'm the suffering kind _  
_I've been abusing way to long _  
_I'm breaking _  
_Suffocating _

_I'll close my eyes and I'll drift away _  
_I'll make it through my darkest day _  
_And I'll sing this song at the top of my lungs _  
_Until this dark day is done_

_Now I'm trapped in the wake _  
_Of all my mistakes _  
_I've been under for way to long _  
_I sit and I shake _  
_My heart starts to race _  
_The poison lingers in my veins _  
_I'm fading _  
_Suffocating_

* * *

**To be continued...**

**Well, what else can I say? This chap had to come up sooner or later and I wanted to write it this way from the very beginning. **

**BTW: The lyrics at the end are from the song 'This Dark Day' by 12 Stones. **

**Please review**^^


	12. Hyde Park

**Hi^^**

**And although it´s a little late, Happy New Year to all of you :)**

**First, I want to apologize for this taking so long, but I wrote this chapter twice, because i found the first version not that good, so I wrote it completely new. And here it is and I hope all of you will enjoy^^**

**And again, thanks to the best beta in the world, bloody-miss-alice! Thanks for your beautiful work and for being so patient with me ;)**

**Soooo, here´s Chapther 12, please enjoy reading =D**

**Disclaimer: I don´t own Uragiri wa boku no namae wo shitteiru.  
**

* * *

He lays on his back, one arm behind his head, while the other one lights up the cigarette between his lips. The couch beneath him is old and worn out and smells of Marihuana. He lets the lighter drop to the ground and takes a deep pull, closing his eyes. It's loud in the attic or rather top floor of the most popular club, disco, skate park or whatever it really is in Tokyo. Or at least in _the other side _of Tokyo.

The music that is played here on the top floor is some kind of Hardcore-Rap, fast, hard and furious, and the volume beats right through your body, make it tremble and tense and leap uncontrolled with that almost unbearable wish of moving, dancing, jumping, just to get the anxiety out of your blood and muscles. The music changes between rap and hip-hop he used to like and some mainstream crap he used to hate, but now it doesn't make any difference to him anymore. To him, the music is no fun anymore. It is no more than a torture to him, now.

With thirteen, he had wanted to belong to all those people here _so badly_. He sees himself, so young, teaching himself b-boying and how to take other's wallets perfectly, quiet, fast and absolutely self-conscious, as if born to be a criminal.

So many nights without sleeping, without resting, without eating. Always caught in a haze of heat and drugs and abused and exhausted endorphins that set free whenever he steps into a room where music is played. The elder teens would make him feel like he'd belong to them, despite his age. They'd give him the attention he needed so much, the feeling of _being_ still _there_, of them liking him, respecting him without having a single clue about his past. He'd b-boy every night, his acrobatic feats and dizzying moves impressing and stunning the people so they wouldn't get their money to give him quickly enough out of their pockets and wallets.

He tries to remember clear details of some nights, but the edges of the hours and days the past three years blur and he loses focus on all those sceneries he sees before his inner eyes. But _shit_, how he has _loved_ his life at that time.

Young.

Aggressive.

Provoking.

Fast.

Untamed.

Wayward.

_Free_.

The music was the rhythm of his heartbeat, the heat and the blaze that followed the reason of his existence. There was nothing he'd needed beside that. Oh, damn it. So many nights _feeling alive_.

So many nights of straining his body to the edge, until he wouldn't be able to walk anymore; losing sleep due to the constant and maddening ringing in his ears, this so-called tinnitus. He would have lost weight and hadn't always have the money to buy something to eat, so he'd smoke joints, one after another, forgetting his empty stomach, forgetting the growing and terrifying exhaustion of his body, even forgetting himself.

He had loved and hated it at the same time. He had tried to put it into some kind of frail balance by cutting himself, by letting his life flow out of his tired body and watching it. He would start resting again, he'd spend a few nights far from other people, but he would never be able to really sleep and he'd ask himself at the same time, when the last time had been since he has really slept and rested and got up with a smile on his face. He has strained his body to the limit and far, so far beyond.

And still, he doesn't stop. He _can't_ stop.

Even now, as he listens to the sound of a very familiar song, his body tenses up, wanting to do what he has forced it to do for so long. He resists that urge and blows the smoke of his cigarette into the room filled with it already. He opens his eyes.

A few elder guys he knows sit on the sofas next to the one where he's stretched out, playing cards.

A girl steps into the room, sitting down somewhere in a corner, pulling up the sleeve of her shirt and injecting herself heroin. The room seems to quiver in rhythm with the music that is played in the lower floors. He even feels the sofa vibrating slightly and his muscles clench painfully and out of his control. He grits his teeth.

Down there, life is going on, overflowing everything and everyone.

But dead he lays here, waiting for the end that wouldn't come so soon.

...

He leans his shoulder against the wall of the alley, close to the end, his gaze locked on one of the most impressive buildings he has ever seen. His arms are crossed in front of his chest; the left sleeve exposes a svelte wrist and a slim hand with slender fingers. But there's something wrong. The fingertips are slightly reddish and the inner side of the wrist is bruised, long, even welts reach from there beneath the fabric to his elbow. It's not really evident on his pale skin, but if one would look close, no one could miss the sight.

The boy doesn't move, only watches silently the scenery in front of him, with an unreadable gaze, but the way his amber eyes narrow and his body remains completely motionless even as the beat of the music overwhelms it with a force that makes one's spine ache and blood boil, show that he doesn't like what he sees and that he wishes to be somewhere else, anywhere, just not here and that he wonders at the same time why he has gone to this place at all.

Really, _Hyde Park _is impressive, no doubt. It is something between a club, a disco, a skate park, a dealer's trading point and a place where gambling and illegal car races are quite common. The walls of the building are all covered with colourful graffiti, but now, at the end of the day, the shadows that fall from the enlightened windows and the spotlights that are installed in one row on the left and right side of the entrance, make the wall look darker now, despite the glowing colours, darker and treacherous. Most of the windows are broken or cracked and the roof doesn't look that stable anymore. Sure, since the building is already a couple of years old.

In front of _Hyde Park _there's a huge amount of space, kinda like a plaza, circled by all those other empty buildings, where the black windows and broken doors look like screaming faces. Beside the fact that people are often taken into those buildings and come out hours later and aren't the same anymore, burned-out cars pile up in front of them, black and gray from the ashes and the grime. That's what happens when someone loses a car race here. His car is burned down, and all those people watch and cheer, humiliating the loser even more and damaging his pride in a way it's no miracle that he comes back and tries again once he's picked up the pieces of his ego and put them back together. It's a vicious circle without escape.

Once you're in, you'll stay until you die.

Right now, there're no cars standing in one row in front of the entrance, yet, waiting for the signal to start, and he believes that the races start later at night, when the roads are emptier and Tokyo half-asleep and half-awake with a certain watchfulness that is still always too slow. And yet, outside in front of the open entrance of _Hyde Park_, a crowd of people stands and smokes and talks and laughs, but every time a voice drifts to him through the sick beating music, he hears no real joy in the laughter. But maybe it's only his imagination.

His amber eyes are still locked on all those people. They're mostly older teens or young adults that don't know what do to with their live and throw it away in a place like this.

He frowns as two guys start beating each other up, probably because of the girl that stands next to them, her fingernails boring into her face as she tries to calm the boys down, but they don't listen and continue hitting each other until blood flows and knuckles and noses crack and the girl starts crying, terrified and worried, without anyone that cares looking at them. It'd be no different if the three were alone there, since that's how much attention and concern they get.

Not far from them, a man in dark clothes leans against the wall in the shadow of the building, selling his stuff to two teen girls that try and fail to look older than they actually are. But he believes the guys won't mind their age in the end, anyway…

He grimaces and scans the area again and then he sees something that makes his stomach turn and his lungs clench in pity, so hard that it hurts to breathe.

A young woman, not much older than him, maybe nineteen or twenty, with thin and short clothes, high-heels and sparkling, cheap accessories hanging from her wrists, her neck and her ears. She wears make-up to cover the bruises on her face, but to his eyes, they're still as evident as a black spot in a sea of white, just impossible to miss.

She's not the only one, there're so many women like her, walking around on the plaza, talking to all kinds of guys. Some disappear with a male or sometimes even two in the building, swallowed by the heat, by the lights, by the noise and he can't see them anymore. He looks them in the eyes, from afar, and they look so tired. The way they smile is forced, their laughter sounds like a desperate yell. And their eyes, they are so empty. So completely out of life.

Really, she's not the only one, and he believes that to those males over there, those women don't make any difference, to them they're surely all the same, but that young woman is the one that notices him and walks over, tiredness making her look so much older, fatigue and the endless wish of sleeping and never wake up again.

...

He pulls his cell out of his pocket and checks what time it is. He grimaces. His last joint was four hours ago. He keeps telling himself that he's no junkie, but those are just lies wrapped lamely in consoling words of his own weak word pool that make the truth even more obvious, because he _is_. He _is_ addicted and he gives a damn about it. After finishing his cigarette he has lightened up the next one immediately, without thinking about it.

He takes a shallow pull and feels the smoke settling bit by bit in his throat and on his tongue, where an awful taste lays; he wants to choke and spit it out. Suddenly, there's someone entering the room. The type of young women he always avoids wherever he is. Shit, if she'd decide to go searching for a client here, he'd get out of this room faster than an eye could see.

He slowly raises his head, only so far that he'd be able to watch her. He rolls his eyes as she walks directly towards him, a weird expression ghosting over her face. She is only a few years older than him, but already now, he sees that something is eating her up from the inside.

"What is it?" he asks with a raspy voice he hasn't used for a few days now. He sounds far ruder than he's planned to, but there's no help, honestly. She stops next to the couch he's resting on, her empty eyes focusing on him.

She remains silent instead of directly getting to the point.

He swallows his usual answer whenever he's asked by a girl or woman like her and frowns.

What the heck is going on?

...

"Piss off!" he snaps as she has ended.

"Listen, Renjou…"

Of course she knows his name, even though he doesn't know hers, because it changes every day or week or guy.

"I said piss off! I don't care about him, tell him to go home and never come back, got it?" he hisses.

A pain, so sick and mad and searing like an infected wound, only a thousand times worse, claws into his soul. It has been like this ever since _that evening_. He grits his teeth and again he feels as if his inside was ripped in two and those two parts apart, one dying and the other watching helplessly.

She narrows her eyes, but then she turns around, leaving the room without another word. He sits up, one hand running through his locks and then digging into his neck, where he welcomes the hurt he can at least control.

The elder guys next to him have stopped playing cards during the conversation and now they look at him with a nasty curiosity in their eyes. He ignores them. Then, one of the guys stands up and walks over to the window, slightly moving the curtain. Undoubtedly he watches the woman go back to _him_.

"Is that the guy she was talking about?" the guy asks and the tone in his voice makes him stop in motion, raising his golden eyes to glare at him.

He doesn't answer, but a healthy storm starts churning in his mind. He looks the elder one in the eyes and sees an expression he has seen so often already.

He runs way too often into one of his victims and the helplessness and the rage he always feels when seeing them, hurts as much as an open wound in saltwater; it burns and burns and leaves countless inner scars. And all he can do for them is asking them if he should call a doctor or bring them somewhere to a place where they could rest or gods, he'd even bring them directly to a psychiatrist, if they wanted, but those people never show any sign of listening to him or understanding him at all.

Too deep is the shock and the pain and the feeling of being dirtied for the rest of their lives.

Too deep the feeling of having met someone so cruel…so cold…so horrid.

It's not like those guys are either into one gender or the other. It's more like here, in this world, it doesn't make any difference to them anymore. They are so many and their victims are alone. They have strength and their victims are weak, at least weaker than they are. They know perfectly that no one will harm them if they'd do what they've done so often already. They take whatever and whoever and as much as they want, until they're satisfied or bored and search for their next toy, uncaring of the person, the human, they leave behind.

And yes, those things happen where he lives.

Out here, in a world where only the strongest set the rules for playing.

This place does he call home.

Underlined by sarcasm and black-coloured with bitterness.

He's certain that the boy he has used to call 'friend' only three weeks ago is able to defend himself. If anything, he'd be the one to knock those bastards out. But still, his stomach and nerves start rebelling as he sees the elder guy watching _him_, probably fantasizing sickly in his mind already. Just thinking of those assholes laying only a single hand on him makes him want to punch their lights off their eyes immediately.

The guy at the window turns around to him, his reddish eyes, hazed by drugs and hormones already, glow now with a well-known, hated, perverse hunger.

"I'm surprised ya know such a boy, Renjou. Well, if _you _don't wanna talk to him, _I_ will… Damn, he's better looking than most women that run around in _Hyde Park _right now…"

_Don't you dare…! _

The rush of his blood sends waves of adrenaline through his body.

_Touch him once and I'll make you regret it for the rest of your pathetic life… _

Those and other, even more exaggerated thoughts bleed across his mind. He doesn't answer that bastard, only jumps up from the couch and runs down the stairs. He'd give that idiot an earful for coming here and then he'd tell him to fucking go home and never come back to see him again.

...

"Are. You. Fucking. _Mental_?" the blond hisses as they finally stop walking in an alley not far from _Hyde Park_, but well hidden in the shadows between empty houses and walls.

He has no reason to answer that and that's why he remains silent, their eyes boring into each other. The taller boy doesn't seem to expect a reply, anyway, he only grimaces and his gaze lowers to his cheek, where the bruise is still as evident as the day he has gotten it.

Sure, he could've easily dodged the blow back then. But he has let the boy hit him.

And well, since that day, the bruise hasn't gotten better at all.

The silent stretches out between them. They look away from each other, eyes strangely lighter than usual, but there's also a hard and cold expression sketched upon them and makes it hard to tell what they think right now. But at least it's obvious that neither is about to leave anytime soon and that could one definitely call a beginning.

"What's with your arm?"

That question sounds more like an annoyed hiss, but it his heart skips a beat nevertheless, since it's already a miracle that the blond has noticed. And moreover, has cared enough to even_ ask_. He looks down at his left arm.

"I overdid it at practice. You know that I do archery".

Silence follows and a quiet relieved breath that is released by the one in front of him.

"…Yeah. Forgot it, sorry".

...

Which is a lie.

He hasn't forgotten a single word that the brunet has told him during the time they've spend together.

But he's way too proud and too stupid for his own good, so he tells the smaller boy and himself a lie that colours the silence gray and makes the air taste like acid.

Oh man, why is he never able to be honest with himself? It almost seems like the 'bad' is already nagging at him from the inside, as well. The brunet's gaze is locked upon him, again, unreadable and distant, but he can feel that he's still _here_.

And that this time, his eyes are only on _him_.

No one else.

_Damn it… I'd give anything for believing you… _

If it´d be just true… if he could only escape the street…If there was a way to leave all this behind…

"Hey, honestly- " he starts, but the elder interrupts him.

"Listen. I know that you don't want to hear it, but- "

Now he's the one being interrupted, but not by him but by the buzzing sound of a cell. They both flinch, but he does more than the boy in front of him. The brunet reaches one hand into his pocket and answers the call. And he's surprised to hear slight annoyance in his usually calm voice, mixed with resignation and a 'Haven't- I- told-you?'-tone.

The boy listens most of the time, but when he does answer, he talks so fast that he can't get what he says. And after a few minutes he hangs up. He looks at him and raises his eyebrows. The brunet puts the cell back into his pocket. Then he sighs silently and meets his gaze. But instead of saying something, he seems to decide otherwise and just turns around and starts walking down the alley, leaving him completely speechless and confused.

"Hey! Wait, dude…!"

The elder has almost reached the end of the alleyway, as he stops, glancing at him over his shoulder.

"What the hell's wrong with ya?" he snaps.

"I thought you don't believe me"

"You…! What-? Why the heck is that important, now?"

Amber eyes narrow and a freezing calmness takes over. "Are you coming with me or not?"

He frowns. "Where are you going to?"

A smirk appears on the flawless face before him. "To a place where I will fight some evil demons, you know?"

It sounds like a ridiculous and lame excuse for getting rid of him. But… Why would he invite him to join, if he'd intend to go home?

"Are you scared?" the voice carries a hint of mockery within.

He grimaces annoyed "'Course not!"

"Good" the brunet smiles mischievously. "Follow me then."

* * *

**To be continued...**

**So, I hope you liked it =D  
**

**BTW: There really is a _Hyde Park_ in our area, it´s a disco, but not such a 'bad' place like I described the _Hyde Park_ in here. All I did was 'borrowing' the name ;)  
**

**So, please Review^^  
**


	13. Anthem For The Underdog Part 1

**Hi^^**

**Soo, this is the next chapter^^**

**And thanks again to my lovely beta bloody-miss-alice. Thank you so much for your work^^ Love Ya **

**AND! I Wanna Thank all of you for your Reviews and encouraging words and comments concerning this story. That means so so much to me =D**

**And to ButterFay, I´ll just do this in german ;) :  
**

**Ein wahnsinning großes Dankeschön für deine Nachricht =D Hat mich einfach mal super gefreut nochmal so deutlich versichert zu kriegen, das jemandem diese Geschichte gefällt^^ Motiviert mich, immer weiterzuschreiben^^ Ich hoffe du hast auch weiterhin Spaß daran, meine Storys zu lesen =D Liebe Grüße aus Deutschland^^ (Und ich hoffe mal, das du das hier auch liest xD)  
**

**Well, here´s Chapter 13, please enjoy^^  
**

**Disclaimer: I don´t own Uragiri wa boku no namae wo shitteiru  
**

* * *

"_Today is the 1st of August" the seventeen-year-old boy two steps ahead of him says. His voice is calm and quiet, but still it reaches him clear and directly through the chilly air at around eleven o'clock at night. _

"_So what?" he asks. The brunt turns his head to the side, just so much that his amber eyes can lock on him. _

"_Have you ever heard of Lughnasadh?" _

"_Lughnasadh? What kind of crap is that?" he asks with more annoyance than he has planned to put into his words._

_...  
_

He steps up the stairs to the second floor by himself. The blond waits in the first floor, pissed and confused because he has told him that he'd go first. On the middle of the stairs, he suddenly stops, looking down to the ground. His eyes narrow. The floor is covered with a thin layer of ice crystals. His eyes travel up to the darkness of the corridor above him. The corridor would lead him to another whole lot of classrooms, for sure. But this time, he doubts he'll find them all empty.

The temperature has fallen and it continues falling with every step he takes further up the stairs. He sees his breath as a light silver mist in the air in front of him. A wave of well-known excitement and watchfulness burns up his senses to an all-time high, making him perceive his surroundings with a piercing clarity. The ice crystals crunch beneath the thin soles of his shoes. As he reaches the end of the stairs, his eyes immediately reveal all the chaos up here. The only light is coming from outside the windows downstairs, so it's completely dark in the second floor.

Yet, he sees large, long grooves of claws in the walls. Doors which were violently knocked out of their frames. There are dark black spots on the floor, even evident through the ice. His breath gets slower now. And he whispers into the cold space "_Kurai Kuro_".

The palms of both his hands tingle, as it feels like he was gripping into a blizzard and the storm would squall and wrap around his hands and wrists. He feels the coldness, but it doesn't freeze him. If anything, it is a soft and gentle breeze on his skin. The wind gets shape and form and weight in his hands and a second later, the feeling of the blizzard is gone and he holds his swords in his hands.

...

"_Here it is" the elder boy says quietly and stops in front of the gate to the schoolyard of an old Middle school. As far as he can tell, the building isn't used anymore since quite some time now._

"_Here is what?" he asks. He gets no answer and he turns around to look what's going on. He watches the boy taking exactly four steps back, eyes measuring the height of the gate. _

"_Hey, what're ya – " His words are stuck halfway in his throat. _

_The elder takes this damn short run-up – and _jumps_ over the gate, lazily propping himself up with one hand on one of the rusty bars, as he's right above it, and landing safely and soundlessly on the other side. _

_Hotsuma´s jaw almost hits the ground, as he gawks stupidly at him._ "_How did ya do that?" he asks unbelievingly. _

_All he receives is a mysterious smirk._

_The air inside the school smells dusty and dry. The light doesn't work, but the street lamps outside are bright enough so he can see something. They're in the first floor of that school, looking for some kind of weirdness in the classrooms. In the middle of the corridor, though, he stops walking and leans against the wall, his arms crossed in front of his chest. _

"_So, tell me already, what the hell does that Lughna- whatever mean?" he says in a quite aggressive tone. He grits his teeth at his own voice. He doesn't mean to be so… provoking or something, but there's such a weird state of anxiety and flurry inside him. It feels kind of familiar, but he can't quite get the reason, why. The elder leans against the wall opposite of him, but his eyes are somewhere lost in space. His lips part nevertheless._

"_Lughnasadh is an old Celtic holiday to celebrate the 'Union between Heaven and Earth'" _

"_And why is that so bad?" he interrupts. _

_This gets him a gaze that says with polite annoyance 'Shut up…please'. _

"_This holiday was also meant to honour the Celtic god Lugh. Just that this 'god' wasn't a 'god' but a demon or, to call him by his proper name, _Duras_. So from his point of view the 'Earth' is supposed to be the 'Heaven' and 'Hell' the 'Earth'". _

_Hotsuma frowns, now completely confused and still doubtful with a hint of distrust. Shusei seems to notice. He sighs quietly and then starts explaining, but this time in a calmer voice that is so much more alike to his usual self._

"_Imagine heaven, earth and hell in three spheres on top of each other. At the bottom is the hell, next is the earth and on top of it heaven. The people back then thought that Lugh is a god coming from heaven, right? There you get the 'Union between Heaven and Earth'. But Lugh was a Duras from hell or _Infernos_. So viewing from Infernos, the Earth is supposed to be Heaven, because it's like 'lying' upon the hell. Got it now?" _

"_And heaven doesn't exist viewing from that... hell or whatever?" he asks, trying to get that much information at once. _

"_Yes" _

"…_So that means that it's actually the *Union between Hell and Earth'?" _

_The boy in front of him suddenly smiles affirmatively. _

"_Exactly, that's it"_

_..._

He listens carefully to any sounds coming from the second floor, but except of some water dripping in one of the restrooms in the first floor, he hears nothing.

_Damn that guy and his quiet steps…! _

He clenches his hands to fists again and again, ignoring the dumb pain throbbing through his left arm. He's way too excited to worry about that now, anyway. His senses are wide open and sharp and he sees and hears more and better since… months? Years?

He can't remember hearing his own breath so shallow and excited, he can't remember hearing his thundering heartbeat so loud in his chest. As if someone would've turned some volume up again and took away some kind of milky glasses from his eyes. He stares up the stairs, leaning against the doorframe to a classroom, but the elder is nowhere to be seen. He claws his fingernails into his elbows and curses silently at his own lack of knowledge of what the hell is going on and at his damn uselessness in this situation.

Suddenly there's a loud sound of cracking tiles coming from above. Next is the ear-battering noise of something violently destroying walls and doors. A sound like from an animal howling makes him press his hands to his ears. It's so fucking loud!

He runs to the stairs and forgets the damn warning of the elder. But he's still like five meters away from it, as something - that Duras or whatever it is – crashes through the wall of a restroom. Tiles, wood and a lot of debris covers the stairs and the corridors immediately. And – Hotsuma feels his heart stop beating – that thing suddenly thrusts its mighty and ugly head forward – and dashes Shusei right down the stairs against the wall opposite the stairs. The collision causes a disgusting sound as the wall gets cracks where the body has hit it.

Or, at least, he prays that it is the wall which has cracked and not the boy's spine. The Duras howls triumphantly at the top of the stairs and then throws it's head back, bellowing so loud he hears dozens of windows shatter into shards. That's the moment where his whole world turns upside-down.

Demons… are fucking real!

And it's_ his_ reality now, not only the elder's anymore.

"Shusei! God damn, are you aliv- alright?" he asks and notices his wavering voice. He runs over to the brunet and crouches down next to him. He lets out a relieved sigh as he sees him moving and breathing.

...

"Yeah, I'm alright" Shusei says, but it's not the whole truth… T

he fangs of the creature have caught him quite nastily as he had been about to cut off one of the Duras´ legs. He had been the split of a second to slow and the Duras has smashed him down the stairs. He grimaces and moves his right arm. His sleeve is torn and it looks awful. He's bleeding out of several wounds that seem to reach almost down to his bones, but he can tell that they aren't that deep. And, thank Gods, aren't poisoned, either.

He grips his swords tighter, but not desperate. They vibrate excitedly in his hands, reassuringly, too – and wistfully, because they miss their dangerous and strong combatant they had in so many fights before…

...

The Duras continues destroying the second floor and Hotsuma watches the elder anxiously. Every normal human would have been at least unconscious… or dead! But no, the brunet stands up calmly and refocuses on the enemy. And he can't help but feel so strangely fascinated and amazed by that.

He has now this sudden urge to join him in the battle… to fight along with him, side by side… He feels a weird, but fervid pull in him… the wish… no, the _need_ to help him taking this damned beast down.

His golden eyes watch the boy lifting his swords in front of him and he wonders where the hell he has gotten them from so easily – and when?

The swords are completely similar and, even though it's the first time he sees, well, real _swords_, he finds them beautiful and baneful and precise. He stares at them and sees his reflection in the lucent metal. He can even see through the blades when he changes the angle of looking at them. The metal they're made of seems to be as clear as the purest quartz and just as cathartic. And there are words crenated into the blades. Probably the name.

_Kurai Kuro.._.

He looks up to Shusei´s face again, observing his unmoving profile. The swords and their wielder match, no doubt.

...

He narrows his eyes, zooming up the stairs, scanning the body of the Duras. The creature looks a bit like a dragon, but a really ugly and malformed dragon. The greasy skin is completely black and covered with some kind of secretion. That is where the weird traces on the floor upstairs have come from. Beneath the skin, hard muscle strands are protecting the organs and the bones. He can only identify two weak spots; the neck and the stomach of the Duras. He frowns a little. The head is armed with two large, sharp horns, not to mention the long fangs. And trying to get to the stomach is almost as perilous as jumping from the Empire State Building.

Either way it'll get nasty.

"Hey, before you're doing something stupid, just tell me what the hell you're planning, would ya?" the voice of the blond slightly pulls him out of his thoughts.

"I got to get his attention"

He expects a sarcastic comment, but the blond keeps silent. He glances at him. The boy looks angry and… pugnaciously?

"Can I help you somehow?" the younger asks in a very low voice.

He closes his eyes for a moment. He regrets having brought him here, but he hasn't expected it to get this dangerous. And stupid Tachibana, who send him here all alone… The other Zweilts aren't even in Tokyo right now, but up there in Kamakura, visiting the main shrine and the headquarters of the Giou Clan. He opens his eyes again.

"Just try to keep out of my way, ok?"

He knows that he has scratched the pride of the blond again, but right now, he's only hoping of getting him out of this battle alive. This is no place for mere humans, with the soul of a Zweilt in them or not.

He doesn't wait for an answer. He takes the left blade and moves his arm up, angling his elbow so that the blade, which is now right next to his throat, is 'facing' the wall behind him. Then, with a fast and floating movement, he throws the sword up the stairs. It makes a high, sharp sound, as it rotates, keeping horizontal perfectly.

...

The Duras gets hit by the blade right between two muscle strands at his shoulders in a spot where it's a bit easier to get through the skin. The dark red blood squirts out and the creature howls again, but now the tone has changed. It sounds dangerous now, and, unfortunately, a lot more aggressive than before. At least the brunet has now the attention he's wanted.

Bless him for that.

The demon shakes his ugly, horned head. Then it's vicious, dark red eyes lock on them and he feels a shiver running down his spine to his fingertips, which tremble, but not from fear. At least not entirely…

The demon rushes down the stairs and – Shusei is gone. He moves his eyes back to the stairs and his blood freezes in his veins.

...

He rushes up the stairs and it feels strange but it's just the way his view always changes whenever his body moves faster than the synapses can register in his actually quite quick working brain. Then his muscles work basically on their own, lead by his instincts. His view meanwhile changes to some high-definition mode. Everything that isn't important gets blurry, even though he still sees his surroundings as one.

But his focus lies on the Duras, and that means his visual nerves are hyper sensitive and send every impulse they get – that means ever movement, every single blood drop, every single everything directly to his synapses. And whilst those synapses still form the impulses into information, his body has already reacted, but his mind gets time to think about the steps he'll do in a few split seconds, guessing on the movements of the demon has made and then will also probably do.

He jumps right in the moment their eyes have met and he's already felt the Duras´ hot breath on his skin and the claw of the creature rips the air apart where split seconds before he has still been.

While flying in a somersault, he pulls his sword out of the shoulder of the Duras, making it howl even more. He sees it follow him with its eyes and turn around, the tail carving into the wall opposite the banister. His feet hit the ground and right in that moment he lifts his blades to dodge the claws that attack him, he's slammed against the wall of the staircase, the claws cutting themselves at his swords.

Everything that has just happened, has taken less than two seconds.

His arms tense and hurt from the unbelievable strength of the demon. His blades are crossed in front of his chest, and the creature tries to push his swords violently to the side so it could rip his head off immediately with its fangs.

Just the split of a second later, his synapses are on one level with his visual nerves again, since right now, his movements are mostly blocked and the Duras´ can be predicted just by watching it now from his way too close point of view. His swords shake now and he feels himself slowly weaken in his arms.

He won't be able to hold the pressure for much longer…

His breath gets slower again and he concentrates. He scans the stairs. Then his position. And the demon's. Faster than a flash in a summer thunder storm, he gets to the only way to get out of this situation, the Duras´ fangs and claws only like ten centimetres away from his throat and with his back pressed against a wall. He grimaces at the pain shooting through his right arm as a new wave of blood flows out from his injuries, due to the effort of holding his blade up.

He grits his teeth.

_Fine…_

_..._

_Oh fuck…_

His body tenses up as he watches helplessly how that thing smashes the elder against the wall of the stairs. He can't see him anymore. Anger and fury boil like poison in his veins. His hands feel like they're burning, he just doesn't know, why. He ignores it and runs to the stairs, throwing caution to the wind.

It's his damn friend up there!

He picks up a few sharp shards of broken doors and windows and throws them in a poor attempt to get the demon's attention to move to him. And right in the moment the shards hit the black skin, the creature suddenly starts howling in a high and excited voice. His eyes almost fall out of his head, as he watches Shusei jumping up from between the demon and the wall, flying with two somersaults above the demon and cutting with his blades two long lines into the Dura's back.

It bleeds so much he gets hit by the thick, dark red liquid on his clothes and his face and hands. The elder lands next to him and he looks even worse. The howl's sound changes from excited to agonized and damn enraged.

...

He's about to breathe as the Duras turns around and he just wants to push the blond away, as the demon rushes down the rest of the stairs, smashing both of them to the side and running out of the building.

He coughs and sits up, carefully moving his body. It seems, aside from his injured arm, his body is alright. Suddenly, a sharp pain lets him stop in motion.

He looks down and sees three scratches caused by the claws on his chest and left collarbone. It burns.

"Damn it! Can you stand up?" Hotsuma´s voice is right next to him.

He nods. The taller boy reaches out one hand and he takes it. They're both sprinkled with large blood drops and, on his side, own blood. And, not to forget, the disgusting black secretion of the Duras´ skin, as it has rushed down the stairs. It sticks to their clothes and skin. But the worst is –

"Hey, what're we gonna do now? That thing is running through Tokyo right now" the blond asks.

"We have to follow it" he answers.

"Great. And how do ya intend to find that demon?"

He points at the floor.

"That won't be difficult. It's injured, right?"

* * *

**To be continued...**

**So, I hope all of you liked this chapter^^ **

**As you know, I´m not a native speaker, so I had a few issues writing the action scenes, but I hope it has turned out alright^^ Anway, it was quite fun to write this Chap =D I´ve always wanted to write something where Shusei gets to kick some Duras´ asses, honestly xD**

**BUT! PLEASE ATTENTON NOW!**

**I´m truly sad, but as the author of this story, I can also see the end of this story coming closer and closer. Don´t worry, it´ll still take some time, but I´m already working on the 'raw version' of the final Chapter.**

**But: **

**There´s a problem. If I´d decide on writing the End the way I´ve been planning to since months now, there´d be the necessity of writing a Sequel. (I´ll be honest, I´m also already working on the 'raw-version' of the plot of that Sequel)  
**

**But anyway, I´d like to know if my dearest readers would like to see a Sequel of this or not.  
**

**So, please, tell me your opinion concerning the possible Sequel. **

**So, please leave a Review =D  
**


	14. Anthem For The Underdog Part 2

**Hello there =)**

**And, as announced in my latest fanfic 'Dreamworks', here is the next chap.**

**In all honesty, at first it was difficult to continue the story after I put it on Hiatus for a year. But somehow, I found my motivation on this story again and slowly, the fun on writing on returned ;)  
**

**I tried hard to make the writing-style like in the other parts. I hope I have succeeded in that aspect.**

**Well, I was **** really ****truly sorry for having let you wait for so long. But now 'Streetfire' is back and I will try to continue and finish it as best as I can =)**

**Please enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own uragiri wa boke no namae wo shitteiru.  
**

* * *

The weak light bulb flickers and dies down. Only the one at the congealed escalators still works, but the light doesn't reach to them. Their shadows melt into the darkness, which seems to freeze the air around them and the ground beneath their feet. His 'Eyes of Gods' pierce through the dark, outlining the surfaces and silhouettes of his surroundings with white color, because in absolute darkness, colors don´t exist anymore.

He scans the rough walls and the ceiling of the tunnel, but no matter how hard he searches, he doesn´t find the demon. Only a few traces which lead to nowhere. But it _has _to be here. The blood traces have leaded them directly to this subway station. But down here, there's no sign of the Duras.

He steps further into the tunnel, which looses itself a few hundred meters away behind a corner. His eyes reveal some meaningless graffiti on the walls. They´re not bad, though. "One of those is from me" the blond mumbles behind him, maybe sensing what he´s thought just now, despite his blindness.

So that´s the reason why he knows how to switch the electricity on, even though the station is closed for a few years already. But even though he knows these tunnels, it has to take him a great amount of courage and maybe also trust to follow him here. He is about to tell him that, as he notices movement at the edge of his visual field.

He stops walking, in the middle of the rails, widening his pupils to full extent, so that only a small circle is left of his amber irises. Faster than a bolt that hits the earth, his eyes move from side to side, but he still doesn´t see his target. But the prickling feeling between his shoulder blades tells him that they´re watched. The younger behind him crouches down, touching the ground; his ear turned upwards, his muscles strained, ready to fight – not run. He notices him moving his right hand like in agony, clawing his nails into his palm, relaxing his fingers again and then stretching them. But there´s no time to ask left.

He hears claws scratching over concrete, rocks hitting the rails with a sound as high as a bell. The drumming of pads running over the ground. A howl is let out right above them, so loud it makes the tunnel vibrate and makes them lose orientation for a few seconds. His ears still ring, he scents the bloody, dirty breath of the demon, but his eyes jitter, as if losing their strength to focus.

Yeah, now he sees it approaching, the corners of its mouth turned up, revealing the long fangs in a triumphant grin. The outlines of the demon flicker, blurry and weaken. He narrows his eyes, but it´s like looking through a milky glass… it´s like seeing like a normal human again… The long, dirt stained claws rip a wound into his thigh, but he manages to dodge the next claws flying into the direction of his ribs.

The blond gasps behind him: "Shusei!".

...

He curses himself for not being able to see in this goddamn darkness, but he hears that the damned demon has attacked his friend. The sound of swords hitting claws fills the air. But he has the feeling that something is wrong. Not only with the elder, but also… He clenches his right hand into a fist, but the pain won´t go away. His hand winces and shakes and it feels as if his fingertips were covered with searing ashes.

...

"_Hey… just for the record, this thing…" _

_"…?" _

_"That holiday or whatever it is today" _

_"…Yeah?" _

_"Does it have anything to do with that demon running around?" he asks with a deep frown on his face, while they walk down the pavement. _

_They don´t run, because it would look simply suspicious to the passersby. Yet, they walk faster than they´d usually do. _

_The smaller boy nods. "_Duras _actually don´t come to the world of humans, unless they´re called by someone, in most instances are those people necromancers. But today, the border between _Infernos_ and Earth is thinner than usual, like on Walpurgis Night or Samhain; it´s the other name for Halloween. For Necromancers, this is one of the best nights to call some demons here. Or the stronger _Duras_ even manage to come through the border on their own, without someone who´s called them" _

_"And this demon? Is it here on its own or has it brought, like, dunno, a few friends along or something?" he asks with slight sarcasm in his voice. _

_The brunet glances at him; he hasn´t missed the sarcasm. "I guess there might be a stronger _Duras _controlling the demon we´ve met in that school" he replies. _

_"And that means what?" A wry smile plays around the smaller guy´s lips, but his eyes remain calm and calculating. "That means it could get troublesome" _ Troublesome in which way…?

"_It´s blocked" the blond mutters. _

_"Indeed" _

_The light golden eyes glance at him. "That doesn´t disturb you, right?" the younger says. _

_He gazes back. "Should it?"_

_ A small smile appears on the lips of the taller boy. "No"_

_Really, if someone would look at them now, anyone would mistake them for a pair of terrorists. They both have put their hoods on, but there´s still blood and whatever the black secretion is on their clothes. Well, they look either like terrorists or like extras who´ve directly jumped out of a splatter-movie._

_ They stand at the top of an escalator down to an old subway station. They feel the few people that pass by look at them distrustfully. They stare down into the darkness, where the stairs disappear beneath the pavement. The traces lead down there. _

...

"Shusei!". It was a mistake to take him here. He can't see, can't fight… He should've known better. He presses his hand to his newest injury at his thigh. Warm blood damps his shaking fingers. He leans against the clammy wall. The demon is not far away; there's no point in hiding anymore, anyway. He can see the blood traces and in return, the Durascan smell his blood.

The younger calls for him again, but he has no breath left to answer. Hotsuma should run, now. He himself has to fight and he has to fight this on his own.

And if he loses, then he'll lose it on his own, too.

He narrows his eyes and tries to focus again, but his visual acuity seems to be at… maybe 80 per cent, with a downward drift. He doesn't know the reason, but the outlines of his surroundings are blurred… as if he had lost his god-given ability from one moment to the other.

It's maddening and in this situation, far more than dangerous.

"Shusei!" He flinches and grips his swords tighter. Calming his heart, calming his senses, he leaves the wall. A few meters away from him, there are movements at the roof of the tunnel. He zooms, as far as he can. Yes. It's the demon, lurking for the best moment to attack again. He lifts his blades…

...

His left hand is attached to the wall, as he walks, shaky step by shaky step, further into the tunnel, this absolute darkness that swallows all his senses and beliefs except maybe one, and that is his friend, who is somewhere down there, together with that demon, in this endless, endless darkness.

He shakes from fear, rage and pain; the pain coming mostly from his own hand that feels as if he had laid it into fire. He bites into the skin, as if that would soothe the pain. It doesn't.

He's about to call out again, as suddenly the noise of claws and metal colliding echoes from the tunnel walls, a thousand times louder than in this blurred, louring reality. He flinches.

"Shusei! Where are you!" he shouts, his own voice frightening him; the sound has changed, or is it due to this place, this nightmare?

Then, the sound of heavy paws with thick claws and light, human steps running hastily over the gravel can be heard, moving away from him. One flees and one chases; he can't tell, who is whom. But he knows he has to follow. So, despite his fear and pain, the rage gains control over his legs.

And also, as he hears from afar the words "_Run, Hotsuma!_", he is already hunting the darkness.

...

_You say you know just who I am _  
_But you can't imagine _  
_What waits for you across the line _  
_You thought you had me _  
_But I'm still here standing _  
_And I'm tired of backing down_

_And I'm here now feeling the pain _  
_Of a thousand hearts _  
_Been to hell and back again _  
_I won't take this_

...

The paws of the demon drum heavily over the ground. His legs run as fast as they can, but the gap between them gets smaller and smaller. The warm flood of his blood soaks his clothes. He feels the hot breath in his neck and in a crazy attempt born from despair he jumps to the side and feels the deathly claws ripping at his jacket, but not his skin. That was so damn close…

He crashes against the opposite wall and pants soundlessly. The Duras growls and then snarls into his direction. His shaking knees almost give way but nevertheless, he stands up. He lifts his blades, crossing them in front of his upper body.

The demon meets his gaze. The eyes of the beast are pitch-black and flash in its delight of killing him, slowly, painfully. A growl comes out from the depths of its throat. He can see the muscles around his shoulders and neck clenching. He, as well, readies himself.

"Come on" he breathes into the silence.

And the storming rage breaks open.

...

He hears it all and this makes it even worse. Images of that monster tearing Shusei's limbs off or of his entrails being spread out over the rails…

"Shusei!", he shouts, hoping to get an answer to assure that he's still alive.

"_Run!_"

He stops. "I can't do that!"

"You… can't..._see_!". His voice is cracking and sounds as if he was close to being sliced open.

"_Then be my goddamn eyes!_" he bellows in his anger and fear.

...

"_Then be my goddamn eyes_".

His words scratch something inside him, making his pain all subside for a second. With all his might he pushes the claws to the side and hits the side of the demon's head with both his blades and leaves two identical cuts from the eye to the edge of the mouth. He sees the blond standing, at the edge of his visual field.

"He's four steps away from you!" he shouts and wonders if he sends him to death with that. And the younger hesitates for the span of a heartbeat. And then he jumps forward and his right hand, clenched to a fist, strikes out and directly hits the Duras in the eye. The Duras howls and groans in rage and punches Hotsuma so hard with a clawed paw that he crashes against the tunnel wall.

"Hotsuma!". The claws have ripped a huge wound into his sides. The eye seems to be blind now, but his anger has doubled. He jumps up and runs, but soon the demon has caught him again, his teeth close around his right blade and rip it out of his hand.

He pants and sinks against the wall, his left sword vibrating in his hand, like in agony. The Duras approaches him, slowly, because it is in no hurry anymore.

Finally, the prey won't run anymore.

...

_You try so hard to bring me down _  
_You can't break the broken _  
_You still don't seem to understand _  
_It's your turn to see just _  
_How it feels to be me _  
_How it feels to be knocked down_

_And you're here now feeling the pain _  
_Of a thousand hearts _  
_You've been to hell and back again _  
_You can't take this_

...

_Move! _

_Move! _

_Damnit, move already! _

His senses all work but the pain benumbs his entire body. The sounds of the fight have dies down and it's almost completely quiet now. His heart is racing, so fast and hard it hurts to stay alive with those cruel beats. His right hand burns so painfully he believes his skin burns down to his naked bones. But he has to move, damnit! Or else…

He opens his eyes, which makes no difference.

_I can't give up already. _

_Not yet… _

_Not now…_

His breath is unbearably loud in his ears._  
_

_He wouldn't do so, either…_

And with all power left in his body, he stands up and stumbles towards the sounds, where the demon walks over the gravel. And he opens his mouth and his voice feels likle a storm and echoes through the tunnel, as he shouts "_Go burn in hell, you damned monster!"_ and suddenly, the pain vanishes from his hand.

A bright, flaming light emits from his hand and enlightens the tunnel and blinds the Duras, which winces and steps backwards. His eyes grow large. Above his open palm, the handle of … yes, whatever appears.

He grips it and the flames that don't hurt him at all, only swirl and squall around him, manifest in a gigantic sword which glows brightly from its own inside. "What…" he whispers hoarsely.

Something is written on the silver blade.

"_Masterstroke_" he reads.

Then he focuses on the demon, which watches him carefully. A grin forms on his blood-stained lips.

"Now let's see who'll be chasing whom" he grins.

And with one last strike of the sword, the demon goes up in flames and in a last high-pitched scream, it dies and disappears.

...

During the last minutes he has completely forgotten about his wounds. Now the feeling of all his aching wounds comes back at once. Yet, he stands up and catches the younger boy, who threatens to lose consciousness.

"You…ok?" Hotsuma asks tiredly, but with proud in his voice. His hand opens and the sword disappears.

"More or less… and you?"

"More or less…"

He looks into the light golden eyes of his blond friend.

"You saw it all, right?" Hotsuma asks, stupidly grinning.

"Yes. And… you were pretty amazing"

After that, they don't talk anymore and slowly walk back into the light.

...

_Remember_  
_This feeling_

_How it feels to be alive_  
_Now you see me through my eyes_  
_And we're here now feeling the beat_  
_Of a thousand hearts_  
_Coming back to life again_  
_We can make it_

* * *

**To be continued...**

**Seriously! I can't believe! I really managed to update this story =)**

**So, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. **

**The lyrics are from the song "Anthem for the Underdog" by 12 Stones.  
**

**Please leave a Review =)**


	15. Coming Home

**Hello there =)**

**I'm sorry for the very l****ong wait, but therefore this chap is especially Long (and kinda depressing, I guess...)**

**Please enjoy^^**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Uragiri wa boku no namae wa shitteiru**

* * *

The younger suddenly stops walking. Since Shusei's still supporting him with one arm, so that the taller wouldn't fall to the ground due to his blood loss, he loses balance and suddenly stands closer to him than expected. The smell of metal, blood and fire fills his nose. "You said nothing about a doctor" the blond says through gritted teeth. He's awfully pale.

"Hotsuma, your wounds have to get treated" he explains.

"I can take care of it on my own!" and his friend honestly tries to push him away and walk the stairs back down into the entrance hall of the Twilight Mansion.

"…"

Shusei lets him go, for he's already too weak to fight with him. But, just as he calculates, the blond stumbles and claws his hands around the banister, trying hard not to fall to his knees.

"I fuckin' _hate _doctors" he says with fury burning up in his tired eyes.

"If you don't let yourself get treated, you'll die within the next few hours" Shusei says without mercy in his words.

Hotsuma stares at him. "You're kidding"

"Do I look like I was joking?" He coughs and finds blood in his palm.

"_You_ 'd better go see a doctor" Hotsuma suggests, now a hint of worry in his voice.

And a mean idea blossoms in his mind. "Well, as long as you don't go, I won't, either" he says with a mischievous smile on his blood-stained lips.

They stare at each other, standing in front of the door to the rooms of the personal doctor of the Giou Clan. The blonds' face doesn't move and for a second or two, he indeed worries if his friend would change his mind or not. Then Hotsuma sighs frustrated.

"You're awful and a manipulating bastard" he snarls.

"I know".

The doctor of the Giou Clan, _Fujiwara Isuzu_, isn't pleased at all to have two teens knock at his door at 3 o'clock in the morning. Actually, he looks like a zombie himself as he opens his door; his black hair is hanging down like a bunch of thick, black ropes and the pale face behind the glasses has a hue of unhealthy grey. Shusei knows that Isuzu is a competent doctor, but right now he seriously regrets not having taken the younger to a proper hospital instead, rather than to this… man.

He gazes at Hotsuma, whose rigid face is paling more and more.

"What do you want?" Isuzu grumbles in a horrible mood. _Isn't that obvious? _

"We got into a fight" he explains, whilst their blood is dripping down and underlines that grotesque scene with a mocking, vicious soundtrack. Isuzu blinks a couple of times. Then he rips his eyes open and the door along with that motion. They flinch.

"Oh _Lord! _What have you two been doing?" Isuzu cries out of the sudden and pulls them into his surgery.

...

"_Don't you dare touching me!_" he hisses like a hurt animal.

He jumps up from the chair he has been sitting on and moves into the farthest corner, his healthy hand gripping his wounded side. Though the pain is flowing through his weakening body like poison, his rage keeps it standing.

"Hotsuma" Shusei says very slowly, his voice calm and relaxed, but he sees that he's hurting. And that angers him even more.

"Just get yourself treated already! I can do this on my own!" he continues.

The doctor stares at him, this crazy wanna-be of a doctor; he can't even describe the fear he's feeling just by looking at all his instruments and tools and injections… Shusei takes a step towards him and he snarls "Back off!"

His friend stops walking. Now the doctor walks up to Shusei and whispers something into his ear. Shusei looks at the younger while listening, but he can't find any traces of whatsoever in his face. Then the doctor leaves the room. He relaxes and slides down the wall until he sits on the cold, tiled floor.

"…Why?" is everything his friend asks, as he crouches down in front of him. He looks away, resting his chin on his knee.

"…". Shusei waits. He waits despite his own pain and his own wounds. He closes his eyes and blurred images from a long time ago appear in his mind.

"…When… When I still lived at home…" he starts, his voice almost breaking under the weight of his memory. "I was… sometimes I had those weird moments… where I ran mad and broke everything in my reach… I scared my parents and… and also my brother. And then… when I ran crazy once again, just out of the blue... I can hardly remember. And then those weird men came… all in white and I had to put on that fucking strait jacket… and they brought me somewhere… without windows and I got dozens of injections… and they locked me up for days and days…"

He feels sick in the stomach, remembering it all. "When I just think of them… these hands with theses damn rubber gloves… _touching me_… I want to throw up" he says through gritted teeth. He hides his face behind his blood-stained hand.

"… I'll tell Isuzu to give you the bandage" Shusei says, not mentioning what he has heard just now with one word, one different tune in his voice.

And he feels thankful for that.

"…Yeah…"

"Ok. Just wait here"

...

He watches out that the younger wraps the bandage properly around his back and his sides, his arms and all his other wounds, but he doesn't help him in any way.

"Shusei" Isuzu suddenly says and stops wrapping the white bandage around Shusei's upper body.

"…?"

"Your friend… who is he?"

"…" He doesn't answer.

The doctor sighs. "Well, at least watch him"

"…What do you mean?"

"Don't act as if you hadn't noticed yet. His arms are covered in scars. He's cutting himself"

He doesn't answer and continues watching the younger sitting in a small corner of the surgery treating his wounds himself. Of course he has noticed it. His unmoving profile shows how skinny he is; dark shadows lay beneath his bony cheek bones.

"…So, just watch out that he won't do it again so soon" the doctor says.

...

He watches the blond, who is standing in the middle of his room, looking at the bed he had slept in the first night after they had met.

"…Something wrong?" he decides to ask, after he comes out of the bathroom.

"…Is that… you know… the bed of… of the former owner of the sword and so on?" he asks in a low voice which lacks every emotion.

He bows his head downwards; their eyes are meeting.

"It's yours" he says.

The golden eyes flash. "But –"

"It's yours"

The younger flinches. Then he walks over and sits down on the mattress.

As the light is turned off and the heaviness of the night slows down their motions and readies them for their rest, he wonders silently, if the blond would be gone in the morning. Just like the last time. And as if he had listened to his thoughts, the younger mumbles "See ya tomorrow".

And he leaves it at that.

He wakes up early, despite his fatigue and exhaustion from the fight. His whole body aches and his muscles scream in pain every time he moves. Yet he sits up and runs a hand through his sleep-messy brown locks. Immediately, his eyes narrow in the half-light of the morning and he zooms closer to the other bed in the room. He hears the slow breathing of the younger; he can even see the rise and fall of the chest.

He's still here.

He stands up and walks over, on silent feet that don't make any sound. He sits down on the carpet beside the bed; without any reason but to watch him. Observing the way he sleeps, the way he moves when he is, like now, defenseless, lost in the world of slumber, and he wonders silently, what the younger might dream of. If he is even capable of dreaming. And he compares it to the memories he still has, memories from former lives, together with _him_.

Eventually, the blond seems to notice that he's watched and opens his eyes. The golden irises are almost consumed by the black of the pupils that widen to two pitch-black holes. He groans hoarsely and clenches and relaxes his hands.

"Shit… everything hurts" he mutters, laying now flat on his back.

"…"

"…For how long have you been staring?"

"…A while"

He looks at him "What did you see?"

"…I saw _you_" And this is all he'll tell.

The younger rubs the bandage around his left arm.

"…Are you hungry?" Shusei asks him and stands up to sit on the mattress.

The younger shrugs. Then nods.

"You'll have to go downstairs together with me if you want something to eat" he says in a calm manner.

"I'm not hungry" comes the expected answer right away.

They look at each other.

"You'll have to meet my friends sooner or later, anyway"

"I don't want to meet them at all"

"…Then I guess you will have to stay in here all day…"

He sees the inner conflict of the blond, the questions and fears. He stands up.

"Go take a shower. I'll wait for you".

...

His younger friend looks like he was walking right to the gallows as he stumbles down the stairs; it looks as if he had no bones left in his body. Nevertheless, he doesn't say a word. Shusei can tell that it takes him a huge amount of courage to follow him.

"How many…?" the blond asks through clenched teeth as they stand in the great entrance hall.

"Probably… four or five people…"

The white face even gets a little bit paler. "…This sucks…"

He waits and keeps silent. Eventually, the younger relaxes his shoulders and nods with a grimace. "Fine. I just wanna get it over with, I don't care – ".

"…I know".

Inside, he sees a few of the other Zweilts sit: Murasame Touko and her younger brother Tsukumo, Giou Yuki and his guardian Luca and, at the end of the long table, Giou Tachibana, like always clothed in a ridiculous way. They stop talking as they enter. It is so silent that you could easily hear a hair falling down onto the carpet. Even the clock at the wall seems to stop ticking. The silence stretches, until Tsukumo grabs one of the buns and starts buttering it and distributing a large amount of honey after.

" Good Morning, Shusei" he says with a mouth full of bun and honey, as if Shusei just had entered the room and it was nothing special to see a tall, blond, somewhat dirty, miserable looking teen next to him.

"Good Morning to all of you. By the way, this is Renjou Hotsuma. A friend of mine".

...

Hotsuma thinks that this situation is awkward and just ridiculous. But what else has he been expecting? That Shusei's friends would jump up and throw knives at him or else? The boy that has started eating turns back at the girl that sits next to him and who still stares at him as if he was an alien.

"What did you just say, Touko-chan?" he asks and laziness lingers in his voice.

"Wha –? Huh?" she makes, completely losing track of their earlier conversation.

"You talked about your last shopping-marathon" the boy helps her remember.

She blinks and then turns back to him. "Uhm... Yes, uh… well, then I entered the boutique with…"

The man at the end of the long, expensive looking table (where he wonders how they got it into the room or if they had built the mansion around the table) leans back in his chair and drinks a cup of coffee. He doesn't look like he cared.

And left are the blond boy and the black-haired man that sit opposite of the boy with the bun and the girl. They still look at him; the boy kind of friendly, but the man's silver eyes look piercing and aloof. Immediately, Hotsuma feels a wave of antipathy wash over him, though he cannot really explain it.

But he knows that he despises the man.

"Hello, I'm Giou Yuki. Nice to meet you", the blond boy smiles.

As Hotsuma hears his boyish, cheerful voice, it feels like a prick of ice enters his chest. He stares at him, quiet and mad, until the smile disappears completely.

"…I don't care" he mutters.

It's not like he doesn't like him – he just _knows _that he _has to not like_ him at all. He notices how Shusei changes a gaze with the man with the cup of coffee.

"I'm not hungry anymore" he mutters and almost flees out of the room, back to where he is alone.

...

Shusei sighs and he hears how the blond runs the stairs back up and slams the door to his room shut. Now they all look at him.

"…Who the hell is that boy?" Touko asks, her brows furrowing.

"As I said, a friend of mine" he answers and steps closer to the table.

"…He's just shy" Tsukumo says lazily and leans back into his chair.

"I got the feeling that he didn't like me at all" Yuki says and looks depressed.

Of course, just like the other guardians, Shusei feels sorry and his Zweilt blood immediatly sends him the urge to comfort the younger boy and give Hotsuma a lecture. But because he knows that it's his blood telling him and not his healthy mind, he fights the urge and stays silent.

"He's just some weirdo from the street, don't mind him" Touko says immediately and pats Yuki's shoulder.

Shusei notices the intense gaze of Luca. "…What?" he asks.

"You sure you're doing the right thing? Your _friend_ seems to be full of hatred. By the way, he is no Zweilt".

Shusei looks at Tachibana, who follows the discussion silently.

"He is able to summon _Masterstroke_".

"What? Seriously?" Touko cries.

"He saved my life yesterday night. It's _him_, no doubt".

Tachibana blinks. Then he opens his mouth: "You better tell that Takashiro-sama".

"Yeah". Shusei steps back. And then leaves the room.

As he's already up the stairs and walking down the corridor, he sees something that makes his body freeze. There is Hotsuma, standing in the middle of the corridor. And opposite of him stands the head of the clan, Giou Takashiro. He hurries to catch up to them, already expecting the worst and thinking about thousands of possible explanations he could give, each worse than the other.

"…Non of your business, got it?" he hears the blond hiss. He sees him clenching his fists.

"…Shusei" Takashiro says, looking at him, no emotion shown in his golden eyes.

"I'm sorry, Takashiro-sama. This is a friend of mine".

"Oh, really?". A slight mock lingers in his voice. Shusei doesn't miss it, and neither does the younger blond.

"What?" Hotsuma asks. His anger is almost visible, like a flame above his head it becomes higher and brighter.

"Nothing. I'd like to talk with Shusei, if you don't mind".

Hotsuma looks at him. He stays silent. "Fine". Then he turns and slams the door to Shusei's room shut.

Shusei lowers his gaze to the floor.

"My office. Now," Takashiro commands and his voice never leaves any room for discussion when he's talking to one of the Zweilts. The only one who never hears the constraint in his voice is Yuki. Shusei nods and follows him down the corridor, the thoughts in his mind crashing together. He's not afraid of the Clan's head, but he's not in the mood for a long argument. He just wants to get back to his room and he just _prays_ that Hotsuma is still there and waits for him. Though he has every reason to leave again.

...

Shusei stands in front of Takashiro's large desk out of dark wood, covered with mountains of reports, books, magazines, work sheets and his computer. The tall man with the long hair that looks like out of thin golden wires leans back into his comfortable looking executive chair, observing him with rather cold eyes.

"…I won't apologize for bringing him here" Shusei says clearly audible, yet in a low voice.

"…I knew you would say that. So, if you would _kindly _explain to me why _exactly_ I meet a petty criminal in the corridor of this mansion? I assume that you know that he's being searched by the whole Tokyo Police Department?".

Of course he knows that.

"It's _him_. He saved my life last night and summoned _Masterstroke_. There's no doubt that he's my lost partner".

Takashiro's gaze shifts. And now there is…pity in his eyes. "I know that you don't want to have a new partner, but just randomly walking around and picking the first one you meet…".

Shusei feels anger rising in his chest. He meets Takashiro's gaze and he feels how his pupils become so large that they swallow every bit of color his irises have. "I did not just _randomly_ pick someone to be my new partner. He is not _new_. He is my old partner, whether you like it or not".

Takashiro stays silent after that. Then he sighs. "And what do you want to do with him now? Do you want to force him to stay here, by your side?".

Shusei lowers his gaze.

"If he seriously wanted to, I would let him. But after all, it doesn't matter whether I want it or not. It depends on him".

The head of the clan nods. "I'll leave it up to you for the time being. But I won't permit any problems caused by his stay in this mansion. And I won't allow you to do your work half-hearted, Shusei, you understood me? Be sure to know your priorities".

The boy nods and Takashiro gestures him to leave the office.

...

Hotsuma is close to exploding in anger and exasperation, as his friend finally returns. Shusei's face is unmoving, like always.

"Hey… did you…did you get into any trouble… because of me?" he asks in a low voice.

"No. Not because of you" Shusei replies and sits down on his desk chair.

"…Who is that guy anyway? He seems to be all high and mighty" Hotsuma jokes half-heartedly.

Shusei's amber eyes lock on his. "Maybe because he _is_, in some way. He is the head of our clan. You know… the guardians, who protect the world – "

"Who protect the world from demons, I know. Man, he is unfriendly" Hotsuma snarls.

He sees the pale face of the guy again, in front of his inner eyes. Already from the first second on, he hasn't liked him at all. Like an ancient instinct of suspicion inside of him that has awakened as soon as he had laid eyes on the blond guy with the scar on the face.

"And with head of the clan you mean he's your boss?".

Shusei nods.

"…Do you like him?".

The questions seems to catch Shusei off-guard. He shrugs. "It's not about liking him or not".

"Why not? You could quit, right?" Hotsuma says; for him, it perfectly makes sense to quit an employment once one doesn't get along with the superior.

"…".

Hotsuma waits, but Shusei doesn't seem to be in the mood to talk any more. The silence stretches, until Shusei asks: "Would you like to know where your parents are?".

...

"What?". Hotsuma blinks and narrows his eyes.

"…We could go and find out where they are… if you want to…".

Hotsuma jumps up from his sitting position on the carpet. But instead of storming out of the door, he just walks over to the window and looks outside, though blind to everything he sees.

"...Why do you ask?" he mutters.

"…".

"…I haven't seen them in three years… I guess I forgot already how they look like…". No, he didn't. He still has a photo. It's faded and wrinkly and actually he should've thrown it into the garbage already long ago. But he just cannot.

"So it's a no?" Shusei asks.

He looks at him. The elder boy watches him, no judgment in his calm eyes. Hotsuma wishes he could be the same sometimes. Just so seemingly uncaring to everything that goes on.

"I don't know…".

"Then think about it".

"But why the heck is it important?" he asks through gritted teeth.

"Because it's important to you, Hotsuma".

He flinches at the sound of his name. His shoulders drop. He closes his eyes. He wants a cold blade right now, touching his skin with so much passion that it draws blood…

...

He leans against a high fence, hidden in the shadow of a house. He deeply inhales the fumes of his third cigarette. It gives him a dangerous sense of calmness. Two days have passed since his arrival in the mansion. He feels in his pockets and finds a joint. Shusei, opposite of him, waits with his head lowered, for him to be ready. Secretly he has waited for the elder to say something about his smoking, but until now, he has hardly commented it in any way.

"…You're hundred per cent sure that it's the right house?" he asks for the umpteenth time.

Shusei nods. His heartbeat skips and then it speeds up. He hates himself therefor, but he cannot stop it. He drops the cigarette to the ground and steps onto it. Then he runs a hand through his messy hair.

"..Ok", he says and his voice is shaking.

Shusei finally looks at him, the amber eyes as deep and arcane as ever. "Yes?".

"Yeah…let's… let's go".

The house where his parents are supposed to live now is a one-family-residence in a good neighborhood. A large front garden and a large house with high windows and snow-white bricks. Even a few flowers bloom in tended flower beds.

"Go ahead… please" Hotsuma mumbles, his heart racing so fast that it hurts. His hands are shaking and become all sweaty. Shusei nods and walks ahead, to the door. Three years. Three years since he ran from them.

Three years and not once did they try to find him.

Three years of being all alone.

Three years to forget what family is.

"Wait…" he breathes and stops Shusei's hand before ringing the doorbell.

"…". He clenches his hands into fists and almost rips the end of his shirt apart. It's a bright, warm day in august, but it feels to him as though the winter he has lived in ever since had never passed.

"Hotsuma?". He grits his teeth, shakes his head. "…Ok".

And before he can decide otherwise again, Shusei rings.

Immediately, Hotsuma steps back, down the stairs, to stand in the half-shadow of the elder. Suddenly, he feels so dirty.

So _wrong_.

Old jeans with holes at the knees, old shoes where the soles come off… and a worn out shirt, too big for him and hardly covers his skinny frame. He wears a baseball cap, and yet he feels so exposed now… so measured… he breathes out, trembling. He wants to run again.

It doesn't take long until he hears steps approaching and the door is opened. And it's as if his heart wasn't there anymore. Only a deep, black hole filled with pain and longing.

It's his mother.

...

Shusei immediately recognizes some of Hotsuma's facial features as he looks at the woman in front of him. She blinks and hardly spares a glance at her son.

"Sorry… May I help you?" she asks friendly.

"Yes… Indeed. Sorry to disturb you, but is there any chance that you've seen this boy?".

And he shows her an E-fit of Hotsuma as he was thirteen. Due to his connection to the police, it was easy to let one be reconstructed, since Hotsuma has none anymore. He observes intently the facial reactions of the woman. He eyes, which are bright blue, widen for a heartbeat or two. Then they get so cold and sinister as if two iron doors had closed behind them.

"Who are you?" she asks and her voice holds no hints of friendliness anymore.

"…I assume you don't know him, then?".

"Of course not! We have only one son!".

He feels Hotsuma flinching at her words. He half turns around to him and sees the younger one staring at the ground.

"Look at him once more. Do you really not recognize him?" Shusei asks politely; his words, whatsoever, have a double meaning.

Does she really not recognize her own son? He stands right in front of her, only two meters away. And yet the distance was probably never bigger than now, in this moment as they see each other without meeting.

"No, I do not know this boy! And now get lost, will you? And don't you dare come near my house again!".

And she shuts the door close, with a loud bang full of anger.

...

Hotsuma's head spins. He takes a step or two backwards.

"Hotsuma…". He flinches at his name. He can't bring his eyes to lift anymore; he can't stand the amber gaze of his friend.

"…I'm sorry…". His insides row cold and his chest hurts so much that he wishes he didn't need to breathe anymore. Didn't need to live anymore… "Sorry, do I know you two?" an unknown voice soundly sounds behind Hotsuma. He turns around and Shusei steps next to him.

It's a young boy, maybe twelve or thirteen years old. He' blond, slim, has bright blue eyes like his mother and a skate-board under his arm. Hotsuma's heart skips a painful beat. This is just too much.

He quickly looks away, as Shusei politely asks: "Well, no, but we're looking for this boy…". And just like with his mother, he shows him the E-fit. And this time, the reaction is so much more evident. And so much more the way Hotsuma has dreamed of countless times in the past three years.

The bright blue eyes widen and he takes the E-fit out of Shusei's hand. The similarity is blatant. They could be twins.

"…He looks like me…" the boy mumbles.

Then he throws a quick glance at the house. "…I'm not allowed to talk about it, but… I know that I have an older brother. My parents always deny it, but I _know_ it. Three years ago – he was suddenly gone. And never mind how much I tried, I couldn't find him…".

"…".

"Do – do you know, where he is? Is he still alive? Is he ok_?". _

_I'm here. Right in front of you… _

But Hotsuma's voice is lost in this ocean of pain he seems to drown in.

_He looked for me.. my little brother seriously looked for me…_

"He is alive. And he's ok, as far as I can tell" Shusei answers calmly.

The boy frowns and looks at the E-fit once more. "…That's good…. I suppose…".

He stays silent.

"C-can I keep it?".

"…Sure".

"Thank you. My parents burned all the old family photos, you know…"

The boy looks up again and it's really like Hotsuma was looking at his mirror-image three years ago. That was how he looked like before he ran: Young, innocent, loved, protected. And now look at him…

The boy hesitates and glances at his house again. "I gotta go now, but… just tell me… Will he ever come back?".

Shusei stays silent. So is he.

"…He… he won't come back, right?".

"Yeah… He won't" It's Hotsuma who answers. He looks at him.

The boy meets his gaze and for a second or two, he believes to see some kind of recognition in his eyes. But then the boy nods, bites his lips and passes them.

"Thanks, guys… bye".

And disappears in his family's garage.

_Yeah… bye…_

...

Is there a limit to the feeling called pain? Is there a way that a human can die from pain? Hotsuma feels the cold blade on his skin. He sneaked out the night, hours after they came back. He didn't talk, didn't eat. Just sat on his bed and stared at the floor. And soon after dusk, he ran. Ran, like he always does, since it seems to be the only thing he can.

The metallic scent fills his nose. Pain in the heart is ridiculous… and yet more tormenting than any physical wound ever could. If he could, he'd just slice open his chest and tear at his heart until it stopped beating and blood spilled…

The blade slides through his scars, deeper than usual, further even, almost…

The salty tears make the cut burn even more. It's like thinking like a child… replacing an unbearable pain with a new one… just to forget it for moment… Just to find relief for a single moment… Wouldn't one just go one like that?

Again and again?

Four… five… At one time, his fingers slip from the moist blade and it falls down, into the small red puddle between his drawn-up legs. He leans back, against the hard, cold brick wall, and looks at the sky which blurs and darkens. Black spots dance before his inner eyes and he looks down again.

Drip,drip,drip… The blood is still warm. He blindly grabs for the knife and lifts it anew. But as he slides open his skin again… a hand moves into his sight, gently grips the knife – and doesn't let go.

"Go away…" he whispers hoarsely.

"I won't".

"Then just let me go on …".

"I won't".

He doesn't want to see him now. He doesn't want him to look down on him. He doesn't want Shusei to see him like this.

"Let go".

"No".

"Let go!". He yanks the blade free and Shusei's hand flinches back, but too late. A deep cut in his palm, similar to the one that cover Hotsuma's left wrist, forearm and upper arm. Hotsuma bites his lip and looks away.

"It's your fault".

"…Doesn't it hurt…?".

A horrible grin appears on Hotsuma's face. "No, see? Just like that – !".

He wants to do it again, but suddenly, Shusei grips his right wrist with inhuman force.

"You won't pay back at your parents if you hurt yourself like that" Shusei says and glares at him.

"Shut up, you know nothing!"

"Then tell me!".

"Piss off!"

"Hotsuma!".

His back meets the brick wall violently, as the brunet thrust him backwards, now gripping both his wrist and pinning them against the rough surface. Hotsuma grimaces at the pain in his left arm. He looks. Both his and Shusei's start to mingle and drip down together like raindrops on a warm summer's day.

"…Then tell me…" Shusei mutters.

Hotsuma sees his friend crouching in his blood.

"…".

"…".

"Never… never mind how deep I cut… It never goes away".

"…".

"You know, I loved my family so much… I loved my parents so damned much… And they hate… they hate_ me_… To know this… it hurts so much and no matter how often I cut myself… the pain doesn't go away and I do it again and again… So I won't have to feel this pain anymore, you know?" Desperate tears stream down his face. "I so damn fucked-up, but I don't know what else to do…".

* * *

** To be continued...**

**Sooo, this was a very long chapter, and really depressing at the end.. but I hope you still enjoyed reading^^**

**Please leave a Review =)**


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